The Grace of God
by meixel
Summary: Uncertain of Steve's future, Mike is determined to help his partner. An off-canon road trip story that touches on spiritual themes as then men seek to find a witness for their murder case in tornado alley.   Sequel to The Face of Evil.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is the sequel to "The Face of Evil". It's helpful to have read this, but not absolutely necessary. I tried to give a quick backstory/summary in the first chapter.

My writing goal with this story is to be less procedural and more descriptive. I also want to infuse some hope and spiritualism. Reviews are welcome. Thanks to all who have been very supportive.

These characters are not mine. I make no profit nor do I have any intent of doing so. All is done for fun and skill improvement.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Bureau of Inspectors Office**

"Bill, did you get the coroner's report on the Valdez case?" Lieutenant Stone queried from the door of his office.

"It's not finished yet, Mike," Detective Tanner replied.

"Alright. When it's done, let me have it first thing."

"Sure, boss."

Mike returned to his desk and faced a stack of files and reports. He sighed heavily. Since Steve's departure three weeks earlier, Mike and the Bureau of Detectives kept busy. Four murders occurred during that time; two of which were still unsolved. Mike and his team actively pursued the open cases.

An attempted liquor store robbery was the backdrop for the first unsolved murder. According to witnesses, the owner refused to hand over the day's cash to a kid who was out of his head on drugs. The kid, looking not a day over sixteen, appeared harmless enough to the storekeeper. But then the delinquent quickly pulled out a .22 and shot his victim once through the heart. The juvenile took off and hadn't been found.

The second unsolved killing occurred on a parking lot outside a bar on the city's east side. It was late at night. Two men got into a heated argument with the victim. One of the men pulled a gun, fatally shot Hernando Valdez, a young father of two, and injured an onlooker. The injured man refused to give a meaningful statement while another witness declined to provide any information.

Both cases left Mike and his team scratching their heads.

The older detective looked out his office door to the empty desk normally occupied by Inspector Steve Keller. He wondered how his partner was doing. He spoke to him only once since the young man and his sister, Maya, returned to her Tahoe area home following the funeral of Connie Mathers.

Connie was very special to Steve. Many friends and colleagues, including Mike, thought that she really was 'the one'. Mike, in particular, saw a new emotional side to Steve. This new side portrayed a caring, loving young man who was beginning to let his private feelings show about the girl he loved. He imagined Steve would have fought to the death for his beloved Connie had he been given the opportunity.

But sadly, she fell victim to a sadistic serial killer hellbent on enacting societal revenge for what he figured to be injustice and mistreatment endured in his life. The fact was that because his murder spree was so vicious, no one really cared about his reasons. His destructive path was nothing more than evil, and no amount of explaining mattered.

Mike insisted Steve call him a week after the funeral to let him know how he was fairing. Mike also wanted to understand how more much time off Steve thought he needed. True to his word, Steve called, but left only a short message stating that he wanted to take his remaining vacation time to figure out what he should do next.

Connie's murder left the twenty-nine year old little more than an empty shell. He felt guilty about her death and had the mistaken feeling that if he had done things differently, she'd be alive. He began to doubt everything he believed in - his job, his faith and his direction in life. And while he resigned himself to the idea that justice doesn't necessarily prevail, the overarching problem was that he just didn't seem to care anymore. The whole situation left him unmotivated and depressed.

Mike looked back at the files on his desk. In addition to the four recent homicides, there was still quite a bit of work to close out King's case even after Officer Brown pulled the trigger on the murderer. With Officer Hanson injured and Steve's role in the final confrontation, Internal Affairs launched an investigation.

Mike called Steve to tell him that someone from IA would be out to see him for a statement. They spoke only briefly, but Mike noted that Steve still didn't sound like himself. The animation and spark his partner once had was gone. After Steve gave his statement, the investigation was open and shut. It was a mere formality with no recourse against any of the officers involved.

Mike looked out his window again at the empty desk. He simply wished that Steve would walk through the door and announce his return. He wanted his old 'Buddy-boy' back, but now as the days passed, he began to worry that would not happen.

At any rate, Mike realized 'the boss' and 'the worker' needed to talk. The topic would be what would happen now that his vacation time was running out. Since Steve refused to talk to Lenny, the department psychiatrist, or ask to be considered for a leave of absence due to emotional stress, he was limited to only his earned vacation time and that was soon coming to an end.

In the coming days, Steve would be placed on unpaid leave and, at some point, possibly fired.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Office of Lieutenant Stone**

The phone rang at Mike's desk. "Stone," Mike answered.

"Is this Lieutenant Mike Stone?" the female voice inquired.

"Yes, it is. How can I help you?"

"Sir, this is Maya, Steve's sister."

Mike was both relieved and concerned that some connection had been made. "Maya, it's good to hear from you. I've been wondering how Steve's been doing. I have hardly talked to him. Is everything okay?"

"Well, yes and no. Physically, Steve's doing okay, but I'm very worried about him emotionally. I'm afraid the longer he stays away and doesn't face what happened, the greater the chance that he's not going to return to be the Steve we both know and cherish. I'd like to talk to you more about this."

"Absolutely. You must realize how highly I think of your brother. If he's in trouble or having some difficulty, I want to help."

Maya replied, "Steve has told me how close you two were."

"Were?"

"Yes, I'm glad you picked up on that. Herein lies the problem: everything is past tense with Steve right now. "Were", "was", "had" - that's how he refers to his life. He just doesn't seem to care about the present."

"That doesn't sound like him at all. I'm sorry that it's come to that for him."

"Mr. Stone…"

"Please call me Mike," he interrupted.

"Certainly…Mike. I have an idea, but it's asking a lot from you. I thought it might be best to talk face to face. A friend of mine is going to Sacramento the day after tomorrow. I can ride along and perhaps meet you some place there."

"Maya, I've had half a mind to head out your way and drag that boy back for quite some time. So for me to meet you half way to talk about how we can help him is certainly not asking too much."

"Okay, my friend's business meeting is near the Capitol. I'm sure you can find that landmark easily. Across the street from the south side of the building, there's a diner called Mattie's. I can meet you there the day after tomorrow at 11am. How does that sound?"

"Perfect. I'm assuming that Steve doesn't know that you called me."

"You are right on, Mike. Steve's become a bit of a night owl. He goes out with his old crowd in the evening and doesn't come back until the early hours. He's usually sleeping it off until the afternoon and then it starts all over again."

"Drinking?"

"More than I like. And he's back to smoking again. He nearly kicked that habit, but it's back with a vengeance."

"Aw, no. I'm sorry to hear that. He's had a tough time with smoking, but I thought he'd made it."

"No, and I'm afraid if we don't do something, we'll see him slide even further."

"Okay, Maya. I'd do anything for that boy. I'll see you the day after tomorrow, 11 am at Mattie's. Thanks for calling."

"No, thank you!"

"You tell that brother of yours that I'm going to…," Mike was going to end the call on a light note, but couldn't. "You tell that brother of yours to be careful. You tell him we're all thinking about him and praying for him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Somewhere along I-80 west of Sacramento**

Mike had plenty to think about during his two hour drive to Sacramento. Top of mind, of course, was his partner. Up until Connie's death, he felt very close to Steve. In the past three years, as Mike served as a mentor to the young man, the relationship became a two-way street. Mike grew to respect the detective and trusted him with his life. He viewed him as a very dear friend and, if truth be told, as family.

Yet, now, Steve ostensibly abandoned all that was his present life. If what his sister said was true, his spirit was lost and he no longer cared. That struck Mike deeply. On more than one occasion, Mike mentioned the reason why he picked Steve to be his partner. It was simply because he cared. If he lost that ability, he understood Maya's meaning: he certainly would not be the same person.

Almost from the beginning, they worked well together. Sure, sometimes Steve bristled at Mike's inability to work reasonable hours. It was not uncommon for the senior detective to show up at the crack of dawn at his partner's door to get 'a head start'. He would think nothing of interrupting Steve on a dinner date with a young woman so they could go interview a suspect.

But Steve had his way to pay back Mike for those interruptions. His trick of stashing the phone into the refrigerator in order to silence the ringing was well known. And if a dinner date would likely end up becoming a breakfast date, so to speak, Steve more often than not stayed at the girl's apartment and not the other way around.

Mike chuckled at the thought until he remembered Connie. Connie was the exception since she still lived with her parents. Over the past year, on and off, Connie was a fixture at Steve's apartment.

Mike saddened at the memory. If her memory troubled Mike so, he could imagine how Steve must be feeling now.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Mattie's, in Sacramento**

"Mike…thank you for meeting me," Maya smiled warmly at the officer as she leaned back in the booth at the diner. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure thing," and Maya turned to signal the waitress.

"So what's our boy doing today?" Mike inquired. "What's a typical day for him lately?"

"He was in bed when I left around 8am. He's probably there yet since it's still morning," she commented as she rolled her eyes. "It's not that it bothers me. He's worked hard through the years and he's been through a lot, so he's entitled to a rest."

"Does he talk much about what happened?"

"At first he did. At first he was so much like the little brother I remember. He'll always be my "Stevie"," Maya said as Mike smiled at the comment. There was something engaging about Maya. She was mature and confident with a pleasant demeanor.

She continued, "He opened up quite a bit about it. We spent the first few days back just hanging around the house talking about what had happened over the last year. He told me a lot about Connie and how their relationship had been on and off and then back on. He'd talk about how he realized he was in love with her and how badly he felt that he couldn't stop her from getting killed. That troubled him so."

"He blames himself still?" Mike asked.

"I think so. You see after a few days, he just stopped talking about it. Then, one of his buddies came over and they went out drinking one night. Ever since then, that's become his routine. Sometimes they go play ball somewhere or hook up with other friends, then they'll hit a bar or two. I have no idea what they do after that, but Steve doesn't get home until sunlight. Then he goes to bed."

"Does he talk about anything at all?"

"Not really. The friend - his name is Randy - he comes over in the afternoon and talks for the both of them."

"Does he mentioned anything about returning to San Francisco?"

"No, if anything he's talking about going back east. We were born in Connecticut and mama's buried there. He's talking about going back to see what's changed. I think he just wants to go away."

"That's disappointing. If he had something he was going towards, maybe I'd understand it. I wouldn't like it, but I'd understand it," Mike commented.

"I agree. Mike, there's one thing that bothers me more, though," Maya began.

"What's that?"

"You may not realize it, but Steve and I normally attend church together when he's home. We go on Sundays and sometimes Wednesday nights. He's yet to go with me since he's come back."

"I've not known Steve to be much of a churchgoer in San Francisco. Most young people these days aren't. For him not to go right now, do you think that's really a sign of something wrong?"

"Our church is very unique. It's a mountain church - very rural. Each service is very intimate and personal. There's a bit of soul bearing that goes on every time. I don't think Steve has found anything comparable in San Francisco, so I'm not surprised that he doesn't go while he's there."

Mike nodded his head, but still couldn't begin to imagine Steve at any church setting, let alone one so fundamental. Not that there was anything wrong with that. In fact, he'd be delighted. But the thought struck Mike: could he have misjudged Steve? Mike, a devout and lifelong Catholic, had been bothered that the 'kids today' seemed to shun tradition and with that, abandon their religious beliefs. Perhaps he had been too quick to categorize Steve that way.

"What has he said about church, then?" Mike was curious.

"Only that he's too tired. But understand, when Steve normally comes home, he goes out with Randy or other friends. They do stupid things and stay out late. Steve is always ready come Sunday morning to go with me."

"What type of church is it? I'm curious."

"It's non-denominational Christian, but it would remind you of the 'old timey' churches that do the tent revivals. We've even been known to pass a copperhead a time or two," she said with a wink.

Mike sat silently for a moment with a slight smile on his face. "Maya, that's the thing about your brother I do so admire. He never stops surprising me."

"Mike, it shouldn't surprise you at all," Maya smiled as Mike looked puzzled.

"You see, Steve has told me how devout you are. He has also told me that you have compassion for your fellow citizens - enough to fill that Bay where you live," Mike smiled at the comment.

"My brother says that you have a natural optimism - and that you '_have to have'_ that optimism or otherwise you could end up hardened and cynical…or worse…you could cross the line, have a breakdown, or Lord knows what."

Mike nodded slowly as Maya continued. "What do you think underscores your optimism?"

"I don't know, but I have a feeling you are going to tell me," Mike smiled.

"It's your faith," she said proudly as she waited for Mike to react.. "Am I not right on this? Your faith is what allows you to keep your head. It keeps your trust in humanity. And it provided you the ability to care."

Mike was silent at her observation. She was right and he didn't have to think twice about it. Apparently, Steve wasn't the only smart 'Keller' in the family. He broadened his smile. "Yes, Maya, you are right."

"Then think about my brother. I love him dearly and generally, he's a sweet kid. But sometimes he can be an arrogant jerk and an all around knucklehead. He's even been known to raise some hell," she whispered the last words as Mike kept a spirited 'amen' to himself. "But he has that same optimism and that same caring quality, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does," Mike was now solemn.

"Where do you think he gets it?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest and tell you that I have actually wondered that same question before. He's an exceptional young man. I know he's intelligent, but there's something more to him. He's all that you are saying."

"It's from his faith. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not so single minded to tell you that our faith is the only way to have compassion and care about people. I know other people have different ways to get there. But for him, this has been the way. The message he has received from that little church up in the mountains and the upbringing he's had by some very kind-hearted people - that's what's given him his caring nature. And that's what I'm afraid is lost."

She continued. "Mike, I didn't ask you to come here because you're a cop or because you're his friend. I asked you here because I thought you could see the connection between what he is and his faith. That's what I want him to get back."

"Maya, you've enlightened me in ways that I never would have expected today. I'll do what I can. What do you think we should do?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Somewhere along Hwy 89 east of Sacramento**

"Maya, I hope this goes okay. Steve isn't expecting me showing up like this."

"You were telling me at the diner that Steve's vacation time was running out and that you needed to understand where things stood. Really, Mike, Steve shouldn't have let it go this long without getting back to you. You've been very patient."

"Well, let me be clear. He did call me when I asked him to, and we did talk for a short time when the Internal Affairs interviewer came out to your place to speak with him. His vacation time runs out at the end of the week. Do you think he is aware of that?"

"I think Steve has fallen into a time warp. He's not himself and he hasn't come to terms with what happened to Connie. Instead, he's distracting himself with the carousing."

"Maya, let me ask you something before we get there. I think I know Steve pretty well, so I'm sure he doesn't have a problem with what I'm about to ask. But I don't know this Randy."

Maya was curious, "Go on."

"There won't be a big stash of pot sitting on the coffee table or something? I mean, if I walk into that, then it's over for Steve whether I like it or not."

"Mike, you do know that Steve went to Berkeley in the sixties, right? But don't worry, he's not done anything like that for a long time. The last time was well before he became a cop." Maya replied. Mike tried to suppress a shocked look.

Maya continued, "But, even if he or Randy did. As far as it being in _my_ home? Both of those boys know better. And besides, I actually don't think its come to that. When I say he's been drinking and carousing, it's just been beer."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Alpine County, California**

Maya's home was in the mountain country near Woodfords, south of Lake Tahoe. The road from Sacramento was not at all like the interstate. It was curvy and could be dangerous especially in bad weather. But as Mike drove, he was taken aback by the beauty of the mountains. "This drive is gorgeous. What's it like to live in this area?"

"Well, if you like to ski or enjoy the outdoors, it's great. Steve and I both like skiing a lot. The hunting and fishing I don't get into so much, but Steve does some of that, especially the fishing. He'll sometimes hunt with bow and arrow."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll bet he never told you."

"No, he makes himself out to be very inept when it comes to the outdoors."

"He's probably working on some sort of a hustle. Just wait. Have you ever been fishing with him?"

"No."

"Be forewarned. He can be a little competitive."

"I'd like to see the bow and arrow. I've always wanted to do that."

"I had a couple of very dear friends - the Bakers," Maya reminisced. "They were an older couple. Oh, how they took to Steve. They just loved him."

Maya's smile slowly faded. "They had a son who was just a little older than Steve. He was killed in Vietnam and with my brother hanging around, I think it helped the grieving process at the time. He became a bit of a substitute.

Anyway, the man was career army and his wife was a part-time secretary. Mr. Baker taught Steve so much about the great outdoors. He was a talented archer. He came close to qualifying for the Olympics."

"Impressive. What happened to him?" Mike asked.

"Well, they eventually moved to Modesto to be near their daughter. Mr. Baker died not long after, leaving his wife alone. Steve stayed out there a couple of summers. Actually, it became his home away from Berkley the last couple of years he was there. Rent was cheap and he liked helping Mrs. Baker."

"Steve's mentioned Modesto before," Mike said as he mentally made the connection.

The pair suddenly heard a buzzing noise. "What's that?" Mike wondered as he looked around. He finally saw two motorcyclists come into his rear view.

"Look, a couple of idiots on bikes," he commented. "No helmets and just look at the way they are riding. If I had jurisdiction, I'd bust them both."

The first one passed their car before they rounded a curve. Maya recognized the large biker as he passed.

"That's Randy."

"What? Steve's friend?"

The second bike passed on the curve. "Now, that was dangerous. What idiot would do something like that?"

Maya saw the other biker with the light brown hair and knew indeed who the idiot was. "That's Steve."

"Why I oughtta…"

"Mike, don't. I mean, I'm not at all happy with what he does because he's being reckless right now. But the main thing is to get through to him. If you come out swinging, he's going to bolt out of here."

"I should come out swinging and knock some sense into that boy's head!" Mike threatened.

"Mike, I swear this is not the right way to go about this."

Mike sighed. "Okay, how much farther?"

"About five more minutes."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Maya's home was just off the main road. It was a frame house that looked more like a large cottage on the side of a foothill. Apparently quite a bit of land came with the house since there were a couple of large outbuildings a few hundred feet away. One was a detached garage and the other was a shed.

As Mike and Maya pulled up, Randy was sitting on the porch still in his biker jacket when Steve appeared from inside with a couple of beers. Randy was probably the same age as Steve, but had quite a bit more bulk, long hair and a very scruffy beard.

Steve stared at the Ford, now recognizing it as well as the owner. "Uh-oh," Steve whispered to himself.

Maya and Mike met the pair with disapproving eyes. No one spoke until Randy tried to break the ice, "Maya, I didn't realize that was you," he chuckled as he flipped his hair back. "I guess your friend isn't used to these roads."

Mike glared at Randy, "I was driving the speed limit."

"Not quite, man. I didn't have to push it much passed fifty to get around you," Randy responded.

Steve offered a nervous grin.

"Randy, why don't you and I go in the house and see what I have by way of food for dinner?" Maya instructed her brother's loudmouthed friend.

Randy immediately complied leaving Mike and Steve alone in the front yard.

Mike walked over to Steve and stared at him solemnly. Seconds seemed like minutes. Steve began to get nervous. He finally looked down and said, "Sorry."

"And just exactly what are you apologizing for?" Mike maintained the serious look.

"I dunno. You've probably got a mental list going right about now."

"Starting with…"

"My passing you back there on the road."

"It was a curve, Steve. You could have been killed."

Steve quickly rolled his eyes. "I know these roads well, Mike. It wasn't that bad."

"You didn't have a helmet and you passed me going sixty on a curve in the mountains," Mike was now shouting as Steve winced. "Okay, okay, calm down. Maya warned me not to get bent out of shape over this. But for heaven's sake, Steve: don't you have any idea that there are some people who would like to see you stay in one piece?"

"I said I was sorry."

There was a pause.

Steve spoke again, "You came out all this way? And how did you connect with Maya?"

"She called me. Buddy boy, she's worried about you and frankly, so am I."

Steve nodded. "I don't know what to say."

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Mike asked.

Randy walked out onto the porch. The screen door slammed behind him. "Hey, man. Maya's about to hand me my ass on a platter, so I'm gonna split. I'll see you over at the ballfield. We have a 7pm game, so get there a little early. Okay, man?"

"Yeah, okay. See you in a couple of hours." Steve replied and then turned to Mike.

"Come on - let's talk inside."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **A personal conversation between the two detectives. Mike is trying to figure out how he can convince Steve to return to the SOSF.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Maya's house**

Mike and Steve sat down in Maya's front room. Steve put his beer on the coffee table. Before he could ask, Maya offered Mike something to drink.

"Just water, thanks."

Steve took a deep breath. He suddenly felt like he was an underage drinker who was caught by the local law enforcement.

"Steve…," Mike paused as he accepted the glass from Maya. "Thank you, Maya."

"Oh, before you get started, I just wanted to say that I'm going to run into town for a few things. I'll be back in a bit," and with that Maya quickly grabbed her purse and left for the store.

Mike watched the door close and then returned his focus to Steve.

"Steve…I want you back. It's that plain and simple. Are you going to be returning to work soon?"

Steve sighed and looked around. He couldn't meet Mike's eyes and instead rested his head on his hand while looking out the window.

"I don't know," he thought for a moment. "I…I don't think so."

"Why? What's going on in your head right now, Buddy boy?"

_Buddy boy._ Steve thought. The nickname annoyed him occasionally. But then there were times when it was strictly endearing and it made him feel secure. No matter what, Mike had been his mentor and confidant. Right now, Steve needed that seasoned perspective; if only he could open himself to receive it.

"What's going on in my head…? Nothing." He whispered as he looked down at the coffee table and grabbed his beer.

"No, Steve, 'nothing' is not an acceptable answer. I know these last few weeks have been hell for you. But instead of healing or at least making some progress in dealing with your grief, you are staying out all hours and riding around like a maniac," Mike raised his hand and pointed back to the mountain.

"And you had better not be riding like a drunken maniac, do you understand me? Who knows what else you are doing," Mike's voice raised and then he took a deep breath before he continued. "I do know you are scaring your sister to death."

Steve barely nodded his head.

"You know, this isn't about the job right now, Steve. This is about you….," Mike waited a short minute. "Damn it, talk to me," he commanded in a tone that was somewhere between begging and harsh.

Steve sat still, but Mike vowed to himself to be patient. After a few minutes, Steve shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry that's all I can say right now. I try not to think about it."

"Connie's death?"

Words came slowly. Then he spoke softly, almost distantly. "I play Connie's death over and over in my mind. As she said her dying words…I remember holding her hand and stroking her hair. I'd give anything to just touch her again or just to have the chance to tell her one more time that I…" Steve broke it off.

Before he cracked, Steve stopped and shifted gears. "It's not important. It's not going to change anything."

Mike tried to be supportive. "Of course it's important. Steve, it's a part of grief. You loved her and she died a violent death. You need to talk about it and get it out of your system. Maybe you need to talk to Lenny."

"No. I don't need to talk to Lenny," Steve cringed at the thought. "I don't need someone to tell me that I'm emotionally unbalanced right now or that "it's going to be all right". Damn it, it will never be all right. Death is final. Besides," he paused, "it's more than that."

"What is it then?" the concern was evident in Mike's voice.

"This whole thing - it's stripped away every belief I ever had. Any sense of justice or karma is gone. Connie was a sweet girl who believed in giving second chances. But she didn't get any chance at all." Anguish filled Steve's voice.

"There but for the grace of God, go I," Mike philosophized as he thought of how many times he witnessed bad things happening to people who were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Yeah, and that's another thing: God's grace. Where was that for Connie?" Steve proclaimed as he shook his head.

"Connie was religious. Did you know she was a Catholic, too, just like you and Jeannie? She was such a good girl. She said her prayers, and she went to church. She'd light candles for someone that needed it. She did everything that she was supposed to do. I used to believe that counted for something, but I don't see that anymore. That's just another apparent myth that was debunked in the last few weeks," Steve said bitterly.

Mike hadn't meant to bait Steve with the religious comment, but now he wondered if his musing had pulled a trigger. Given Maya's comments about Steve's not going to church, Mike also wanted to understand what was behind her observations. It was as if a dam broke and the words finally poured out.

Steve quieted some as he continued. "I don't know if I ever had the strong faith that Maya has. I struggled before, but now I'm just filled with doubts. Not only with the church, but with myself. Everything. I doubt me. I doubt you. I doubt our work. The only thing I don't doubt is that Connie is six feet under and that I will never see her again. Not in a million years and not in a million lifetimes."

Mike listened quietly.

"Mike, I couldn't save Connie. No matter what we would have done, King was going to kill her. She was on his damned list. We even moved her away, but he still came after her in a parking garage. And all those other women, too. They crossed his path and from that he decided whom he was going to kill."

Mike looked sadly at his partner and Steve could read the pity on his face.

"And no, I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm just being realistic now. Whether I go back to being a cop, nothing is going to change. People are basically just going to shit on each other, and all I'll be able to do is clean up the mess. It's an absolute waste of time to think we make a difference."

Mike took that as an entrance. "You mean to tell me that all the work that you and I have done - and let's take _you_ out of the equation for the moment," Mike recalibrated his comment. "For all the years that _I've_ put in, or even Rudy or Devitt, are you telling me we haven't done any good? Answer that. Some of us have been at this since before you were born, you know." Mike was being tough with the young man.

Steve didn't want to answer the question at all, but had to say something. "It's just a vicious cycle. It's one that I can't do anymore."

"You've done a lot of good and so have I. So have all of us. I won't let you take that away."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could feel differently."

"I wish you would talk this out with Lenny."

"Why? Is Lenny some sort of magic man that will say a few words and it will all be better?"

"He has a way, yes."

"No, Mike. There's nothing that Lenny can say. This is more fundamental than anything."

"Well, what about your pastor or preacher?" Mike asked.

"What pastor?" Steve responded.

"The non-denominational church in the mountains that Maya talked about on the way out here."

There was a slightly bitter edge to Steve's laugh. "You must have really had some conversation in that car."

"We got along fine and talked about a lot of things, Steve. Now, why don't you talk to your pastor?"

"If you'd been listening to me you'd know that I don't necessarily subscribe to that anymore. It would be a useless conversation," Steve was being very short with Mike.

Mike frowned. Steve knew he had crossed the line. He didn't want to offend Mike with his remarks and he certainly didn't think the tone he used with the older man was appropriate.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Buddy boy. You're at least talking to me. That's what I wanted."

"Let's go back to your first question. You wanted an answer to your question about me coming back. I don't think I can," he said quietly. "If you want me to give you a letter of resignation, I will." The bitter tone had been replaced by cooperation.

"No, Steve. I don't want that. I do want you to come back, but if you can't…" Mike couldn't finish.

"Mike, I'm no good anymore. I think you figured that out already," he paused. "I know that you and I have a very strong friendship and we can stay in touch. I promise I'll try."

"I don't understand, Steve. Why do you think that I have "figured that out already"? And while we're at it, you said earlier you have doubts about me. What did that mean?" Mike's hurt feelings showed.

"I'm sorry that I've put it this way, but I guess you need to know the rest. Do you remember when Hanson and I were alone with King? I had my gun on King. He had gone after Hanson and I shot him in the legs."

Mike nodded as Steve continued.

"I could have killed him then. For the record, it would have been acceptable for me to do that in defense of Hanson. But I didn't want King to die there. I didn't think it would look good for me to kill the guy being the boyfriend of one of the victims. And, besides, at that point, I didn't think it was necessary. I still could have done it, though, and part of me really wanted to.

But you taught me differently. Remember Cord? You could have killed him, but you didn't. I wanted to follow your example."

Mike swallowed but remained silent.

Steve added, "I kept my gun on him. I even taunted him a little. I didn't know where the knife and gun were, so I wanted to play it safe until you and Brown got there. My main objective was to make sure that Hanson was clear so I felt it necessary to stay in position. A couple of minutes later, there you two were."

"I didn't realize that the weapons were so close to him," Mike said.

"You came over to me and made me lower my gun. I thought you figured I was going to go nuts and kill him. It was at that moment I lost your trust. That's why I can't come back."


	5. Chapter 5

**Maya's house**

Steve's words hit Mike hard.

"Steve…no…that wasn't my intent. I know that's what I did, but it wasn't because I thought you had lost your judgment. That wasn't the case at all."

"Mike, it's okay, I understand. Really, everything happened so quickly and there I was with a gun pointed on him. I know you had no choice."

"But Steve, you _don't_ understand. I made you lower your gun for two reasons. I thought it was all over. I misunderstood that, but thankfully, you didn't. But the other reason was that you never should have been in that position to begin with. Rudy and I agreed that if we were getting close, I should pull you to the sideline. We didn't want you to be in a position to have to face King one on one like that."

Steve sat confused. All he could remember was feeling Mike pushing down on his hands as he held the gun. He and Brown had arrived shortly after the second shot into King's other kneecap. Granted, that discharge was in defense of Hanson to give the uniformed officer the chance to get away from King's reach. But the shot was positioned to purposely disable the killer and Steve thought he'd gone too far.

"Steve…I trust you with my life. You did nothing wrong that day. You did everything right, but understand - you should never have been placed in that position. I should have put you on the sideline as soon as we left the hospital when Connie died. But I understood that you wanted to talk to the witness and pursue the investigation. That's why I let you ride along. I would have wanted the same thing if this had happened to Jeannie."

Steve spoke finally. "I thought you figured I'd lost it," he said quietly. "Honestly, Mike, I did lose it, in a way. You should know that."

"Why?"

Steve grabbed a cigarette from the pack sitting on the coffee table. He pulled an ashtray closer after he lit up and took a drag. He was committed to tell Mike what was exactly on his mind during the time with King.

"I told King that I wasn't going to kill him. But I told him if he moved or tried something, then I'd make sure he'd…well…I don't know how to put this," he took a deep breath. "I told him that if he moved, no one would ever fear they'd be sexually assaulted by him again."

"Oh," Mike nodded his head thoughtfully, "You mean, he would have been singing soprano in the San Quentin's men's choir?"

Steve let out a small chuckle on that. "Something like that." He took another drag of the cigarette.

"But you didn't do that, right?"

He exhaled the smoke. "No, that actually stopped him in his tracks. It stunned Hanson too," he added with a sly grin. "I lowered my gun right at his midsection and yes, specifically at his crotch."

"But you kept him at bay that way, right?"

"Yes."

"And it wasn't until Brown and I came in that he decided to make a move. Mostly because we distracted you and well, certainly because I made you lower your gun."

"I guess."

"Steve, I'm so sorry. The last thing I wanted was for you to think that I didn't trust you. I was only trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From having to deal with King. From having to pull the trigger any more than you already did. You had gone through a nightmare that day. I just wanted it to end for you and for all of us. I thought it was over."

"I don't know what to say."

"Steve, if you don't come back to work, I don't want it to be because you think I don't trust you. You're an excellent cop and I'd trust you with my life any day."

"I understand. And thanks for explaining it to me. I feel better," he said as he exhaled. "When Internal Affairs came over, I thought that my conduct was the reason."

"But I told you that it wasn't."

"I know, but I was so sure."

"Did they question you on your conduct?"

"Not really. They were curious about why I shot him where I did. I just said that I didn't intend to mortally wound the man."

"They probably thought you were a saint."

"That'd be a first."

Both Mike and Steve heard a car pull up. A minute later, Maya walked in with groceries. "Let me help you with that," Mike jumped up.

Steve finished his cigarette and followed the pair into the kitchen. "Do you have anything else, sis?"

"No, just this bag. Mike, I insist you stay for dinner. I bought some pork chops."

"Sounds good, thanks."

Steve looked at the clock on the wall. "I need to be heading over to the ball field soon. We have a 7pm start, so I should leave in another half hour."

"You've been playing baseball?" Mike inquired.

"Yeah, some - nothing major league. Just a bunch of guys over at the Legion field. We have a few beers and try not to get hurt too badly."

"Don't tell me this is a new career for you."

"No way. I'm not very good."

"What position?"

"Short stop and sometimes catcher."

"That I'd like to see. You know, I can drive you over there. Wouldn't mind catching an inning or two, but then I'd have to get back to San Francisco tonight."

"Mike, that will make for a late night plus the mountains can be tough to get through in the dark if you're not use to it. Why not stay over and go back in the morning?" Maya suggested.

Mike looked over at Steve to see his reaction. Steve nodded his head in agreement.

"I don't want to impose."

"No imposition at all. I have a third bedroom and an extra toothbrush. You'd be all set," she said with a wink.

"Only if it's okay with you both."

"Of course it's okay with me, Mike," Steve said.

Maya gave Mike a big smile.

"Mike, how many vacation days does Steve have left?"

"After today, two."

"Little brother, as much as I love having you here, you need to get back to San Francisco anyway. The longer you put it off, the harder it will be. And you've put it off long enough as it is. Why don't you ride back with Mike?"

Steve looked at Maya for a long moment and then glanced over to Mike. She looked hopeful. Perhaps getting back to his normal routine would help him get through his grief. And then perhaps dealing with his grief would bring him back closer to his faith.

Steve himself looked like he was backed into a corner.

Maya encouraged Steve. "Really, kiddo. You have your car and apartment back there. Why don't you go back and give it a shot. I don't think you'll make a real decision about your future until you do. If it doesn't work, you can always come back here."

"Thanks, Maya," Steve said as he turned to Mike. "Mike, I can't promise what will happen. I don't know if I'm ready, but my vacation time is about to run out and I need to get back. It's not a bad thought to go back tomorrow. Is it okay if I think it over tonight?"

"Okay, Buddy boy. I'll call Rudy and tell him I'll be back closer to noon. But he's going to want to see a certain young inspector walking through that door at some point soon."

Steve smiled slightly and nodded. There was still an uncertainty and sadness about his look. Maya walked over and gave him a big hug. "I have some pork chops that need cooking, so I'll get at it." She kissed him on the cheek and then turned to Mike and winked.

"Thank you," Mike mouthed to Maya.

It was at least a start.


	6. Chapter 6

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Maya's house**

Mike sat at Maya's dining table reading the prior day's paper and drinking a cup of coffee. It was 6:30 am and he needed to return to San Francisco.

Maya appeared at the doorway in her flannel robe with her hair loose and no make-up. It was not her best look, but she felt comfortable around Mike.

"What time did you two get home last night?"

"Well, _I_ got home around eleven."

"Oh no - he didn't come back with you?"

"Do you know who sponsors their team?"

"I'm afraid I do."

"Miss Lucie's Ranch. I thought it was a real ranch, so I went over there with that brother of yours and his buddies. I guess you know that ranch has nothing to do with horses?"

Maya giggled. "I'm not surprised he went over there. They go after every game. He probably wanted to say 'goodbye'."

Mike was surprised at how easy-going Maya was about Steve's after game activities. Maya read his thoughts.

"Not to make excuses, Mike, but he grew up with a lot of those people - both the girls and even the guys that hang out there. They are just friends. I don't like what they do at the ranch, but they are generally good people."

"But he's a cop. How he even thinks it's okay to go over there is beyond me."

"He's not a cop outside of San Francisco. And anyway, it's legal in that part of Nevada. Please don't assume _that's_ what he was doing. Most of those girls are just good friends of his. They make over him and at this point, I think he needed the distraction."

"You're not going to tell me that your brother is Mr. Innocent," Mike couldn't decide whether he was outraged or not.

"Oh, no! Far from it," Maya laughed. "But he's a good kid and he stands by his friends. He'd go the extra mile for any of them and they'd do the same for him."

"I've learned so much coming out here," Mike said as he shook his head. "You are right - he is a good kid. That's what surprises me so much about the company he keeps here. That's a rough crowd. In San Francisco, he comes across as a sheltered, city kid. He's very polished and he dresses and speaks well. It's night and day from the crowd here."

"He's learned to fit in no matter where he is. It's a skill he developed when he was young. And when he went away to college at Berkeley, he blended in because he really wanted to do well. That is the one thing that separates Steve from the others in his circle of friends."

"What made him so different?"

"He felt privileged and I mean that in a humble way. It's more accurate to say he felt blessed," Maya said as she sat down with a cup of coffee. "It's ironic. Neither of us had it 'easy' when we were growing up. Mike, do you remember me telling you about the Bakers?"

"Sure. The couple that really took to Steve. The husband taught him how to use a bow and arrow."

"Yes. The Bakers took him in for a while and they ended up 'sponsoring' him. Do you know what I mean by that?"

"No." Mike leaned forward.

"They saw potential in him, so they took him in and helped him get through school."

"They paid his way?"

"Not really. They encouraged him to finish high school for starters. Then they pushed him to go to college. They helped him with his entrance exams and scholarship applications. They gave him lots of love and support. Now, they did loan him some money, but he paid it back the first two years he worked with interest."

"Amazing. I can't imagine him needing encouragement to finish high school."

"Yes, he went through a rough patch with mama gone. Mrs. Baker even wanted Steve to go to law school, but he felt like they had done so much for him already."

"What about the car? He's had that Porsche as long as I've known him, so he had to be very young when he got it."

"Actually, that was a gift from me. And it was 'used' when I gave it to him. It was his graduation present."

"It sounds like he was a very fortunate young man."

"I think he still is," Maya scrunched her nose at Mike. "You take care of him, okay?"

"I will," Mike looked at the clock. "That is, I will, if he ever shows up."

"I'll call over there. He either stayed at the ranch or went home with Randy."

As she reached for the phone, a car pulled up and Steve hopped out of the passenger side. Waving to the driver, he hurried through the door. "Sorry I'm late."

"Where were you?" big sister inquired.

"Well," Steve looked at Mike with a bemused grin, "my ride ditched me last night when he found out about our sponsor. I wasn't sure if he was going to wait for me this morning either, so I thought I'd get back here as quickly as I could."

"Who's your friend?" Mike asked. "Was that Randy?"

"Uh, no. You clearly need to get new glasses," Steve kidded. "Unless Randy lost 150 pounds and now wears a dress."

"The only 150 pounds Randy needs to lose is you, baby brother. Are you about ready to go?"

"Almost, let me pack up."

Moments later, Steve had what few belongings he took with him after Connie's funeral.

"I'll go put these in the car for you, Buddy boy."

Steve turned to Maya. She had tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much. But you need to go back."

"I know. For two cents, I'd give it all up and stay here. This is home, but I realize I need to have closure with what has happened."

"Mike seems like he's a good man. You listen to him."

"He is and I will," he put his arms around his sister and hugged her tight. They said no words. Mike walked in, but they were oblivious.

"I love you, you knucklehead. Three weeks of you has driven me to tears." Maya said to her brother as she wiped her eyes.

"I love you too. Take care of yourself. I'll be back soon," he smiled through watery eyes. It was the first genuine smile she had seen from him in quite some time.

"Wait a minute…I almost forgot," Maya said as she ran back to her bedroom. Steve looked sheepishly around to Mike. It was the first time that Mike had met family and Steve was a little shy to show his emotions.

Seconds later, Maya returned with a medium sized craft envelope. "This is for you."

"Can I open it now?"

"Sure."

Steve carefully opened the envelop and found a black and white photo. It was of a young, blonde haired boy sitting in between two women. One woman had fair skin and long red hair. The other woman was younger with dark hair and features. The boy was wedged between the two on a sofa and then women each had an arm wrapped around him.

Steve stared at the photo. "It's us with Mama. I never had a picture of her before. Um, thanks. I don't know what to say."

"Mama would be so proud of you," Maya looked at the picture. "You had to have been around five years old."

"I've got to see this," Mike interrupted. "Oh my," he said as he studied how his partner looked nearly twenty five years earlier.

Maya giggled as she noticed how busty both she and her mother were. She noticed how close each woman's bosom was to either side of young Steve's head.

Steve picked up on the joke. "It explains it all, doesn't it?," and with that, both Mike and Maya smirked.

"Maya, this is the nicest thing you could have done for me. I'll get a good frame for it and keep it with me."

"Baby, you just take care of yourself. And the next time you come back, you make sure that you are here on a Sunday and we'll go to church. No excuses. I worry about you that way."

"I know you do."

"You'll be in my prayers every night and every morning."

"Thanks," he whispered as he looked down.

"Well, Buddy boy, we do need to head out…when you're ready…" Mike announced.

"Alright. Maya, thank you for everything. You're the best."

"Maya, it's been an absolute pleasure. I hope to see you again sometime," Mike nodded.

"The pleasure's been mine," as she reached to give Mike a kiss on the cheek.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Steve sat in the passenger side and didn't say a word for the first half hour of their ride back. Mike figured that he had a lot on his mind and didn't want to push it with empty chatter. They had become good enough friends to where companionable silence was not awkward.

However at the thirty minute mark, Mike finally asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You've got a wonderful sister there."

"I know. She's the best."

"She's a bit older than you, isn't she?"

"About 13 years. I think that makes her around 42."

"Okay, I'll ask. She apparently isn't married, right?"

Steve smirked. The idea that Mike might be interested in his sister filled him with equal parts amusement and wonder.

"No, she's not been married."

"I thought you said her last name was Washington once. How does a Keller and a Washington become brother and sister."

"We're half siblings. We had the same mum."

"I guess that explains the age difference. You're from a second marriage?"

"No…I'm…um…the milkman's kid, so to speak," Steve said a little hesitantly.

"Oh," Mike kicked himself mentally for asking too much.

"Her dad figured out that I wasn't his the minute I was born. Mama didn't deny it. They divorced not long after. Maya split her time between her dad and Mama. I lived with Mama until she passed away. I eventually landed here with Maya."

"Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Mike. It is what it is. There's not a thing I could have done to change the circumstances."

"That's a good attitude to have."

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world. There's no one better person in the world to have as family than my sister."

"You were raised without parents, though?" Mike commented sadly.

"You can't miss what you never had. It's all okay, Mike. Don't worry about it. I adjusted well."

"You surely did."

"Let's talk about something else. Tell me what's going on at work."

"Okay, Buddy boy. Let's talk about the Valdez case."

**A/N - The rest of the story picks up with the Valdez case all the while Steve struggles to get back to where he was emotionally. How does this happen? Stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7

On the ride back, Mike updated Steve on the case of Hernando Valdez. This was the story of a young father of two who was in the parking lot of Carl's Bar and Grill late one evening with a companion, Victor Cruz. Two men followed the pair to the lot when one of the two men pulled a gun, shooting Cruz and mortally wounding Valdez.

In addition to Cruz, there was another witness. This witness had stopped in the bar to have a drink and did not know the other men. He was on his way back to his car when the shooting occurred. He saw very little and could not add much detail to what Cruz had provided.

The police had very little to go on. Steve absorbed the particulars of the case and developed a sympathy for the surviving wife and children of Hernando Valdez.

He wondered to himself if the tragedy he endured with Connie would give him greater insight to the pain the surviving family members bore in the murder investigations.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike dropped Steve off at his apartment when they returned to the city that afternoon. The young man took the opportunity to get himself settled. He had a pile of accumulated mail, quite a bit of dirty laundry from three weeks earlier and no food in the house.

Steve sighed as he looked around. Sitting alone at his kitchen table, he lit a cigarette and reflected on recent events. He had stayed in the apartment for only two nights after Connie died and then left after her funeral with Maya.

He remembered the calling card that King left on his pillow. The bloody knife, Connie's underwear and note attached to his pillow still upset him when he thought about it. For the two nights he stayed, he slept on the couch.

Now, it was time to come back home and move forward. He knew it would be difficult but he would give it a try.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Bureau of Inspectors Office the following morning**

"Mike, we got a lead on another witness who was at the bar when Hernando Valdez was shot," Bill Tanner greeted Mike as he walked through the door.

"Fantastic!" the senior detective replied as he took his coat and hat off. Bill followed him into the office.

"As you remember there was a witness named Roy Smith who gave a statement to one of the responding officers. Apparently Smith was attending some sort of conference nearby. At any rate, when we touched base with him again, he mentioned another man who was also at the scene. He asked if we had talked to him yet. We had no indication of this man from the initial investigation."

"So what is this other man's name?"

"We don't have it yet. We just have a description. Smith recognized him from the conference and they had a short conversation at the bar - just passing the time. But they didn't exchange names. The good news is that the conference itself was fairly small - just about one hundred attendees. Smith is going through the roster now and by process of elimination he's hoping to narrow down the search. "

"That's good. At least that's something. I wonder why a witness would leave the scene of a crime like that without talking to our guys," Mike pondered. "Hey, what about Cruz? Is he still in the hospital?"

"No, he was released yesterday."

"Okay, well keep on it. Excellent work, Bill."

The door opened and Steve walked in. "Steve!" Bill called out. "It's so good to have you back, man." He extended his hand to the young man.

"Thanks, Bill. And thanks for covering for me while I've been out. All of you guys," Steve said as he looked around. "I really appreciate it."

"Hey, we're just sorry for what you went through. Connie was a sweet girl. She brightened the station every time she swung by."

"Yeah," Steve acknowledged sadly.

Bill was sorry that he brought up an emotional subject, but it was only natural to extend his sympathies. He quickly changed the subject. "Hey and anyway, you were just taking vacation time that was coming to you. We all should do that," Bill looked at Mike and smiled.

"Mike will never take vacation, you know that, Bill." Steve welcomed the change of tone and subject.

"I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about me. Now that you're back…well, it's just that my wife is after me to take her back east to see her folks."

"Oh, yeah? Where's she from?"

"Chicago. Actually, we both are. I grew up there too. I'd love to get back and maybe catch a Sox game."

"Ah yes," Mike interrupted. "Your Nancy has been wanting to go since Christmas, hasn't she, Bill?. Tell you what. You call the Missus and tell her to start planning that trip. We'll cover for you. Just let us know when."

"Sure thing," Bill responded with a smile. It had been quite some time since he'd had a vacation and it was well deserved.

Mike turned to Steve. "I'll fill you in on the latest on Valdez. Looks like we might have another witness. We'll revisit Cruz now that he's out of the hospital. I think we also need to visit Mrs. Valdez, too. Now that she's had some time to process what happened to her husband, perhaps she can recall something that might help."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The visit to Cruz did not yield much. They caught up to the man at his home. Having been shot in the side, Cruz was lying on the sofa when the detectives came to call.

"Are you sure you didn't recognize the two men who shot you and Valdez?"

"Look, I told you guys this before. I didn't know them. I was an innocent bystander."

"How did you know Mr. Valdez?" Steve asked.

"We worked together on a clean-up project last year."

"Clean-up project?" Steve was curious.

"Yes, it was a NEPA thing - we were doing clean-up on a waterway in Marin County."

"NEPA?" Mike asked.

"That's the National Environmental Policy Act that was setup in 1969 as part of Nixon's environmental efforts," Steve volunteered. "It was a good piece of legislation. You can see the impact of the clean-up efforts all over California."

Mike started to say something, but kept his mouth shut. Cruz smiled at the recognition of his efforts.

"Were you planning to meet someone else there?" Steve asked.

"No, we were just having a beer and catching up. I hadn't seen him in a few months." Cruz replied.

"I know that you gave a statement earlier stating that you had no known enemies, but can you think of whether someone might be targeting you? Perhaps it was Hernando who was the innocent bystander," Steve continued.

"No - the men were speaking to Hernando."

Mike's interest was now piqued. "Wait a minute, you heard a conversation?"

"Well, not really a conversation," Cruz responded. "All they said was that he had gone too far and was going to pay. It made no sense to me."

"Can you describe the two men?" Mike asked.

"You know, it was dark. I know they were white men. Both of them were. They had on dark raincoats and their faces were covered.

"How about accents?" Steve asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I mean nothing ethnic. Just run of the mill American accents."

"What about a car? Did you see them get into a car when they left?"

"No, I don't know. When we were shot, that was it for me. I didn't see them leave. I was on the ground."

"All right, Mr. Cruz. I appreciate your patience with us. If you think of anything, call," Mike said as he handed him a card.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Two men watched the detectives leave Cruz's home.

The older of the two commented, "You heard the boss. We were supposed to keep an eye on Cruz. If the cops circled again, we were to take him down. The boss said he couldn't risk any witnesses. The hospital was too public and since the cops continue to talk to him, we need to take him out now."

The younger man looked at his companion unemotionally and nodded his head. He checked for his gun as the pair left their car and walked up the steps to Cruz's house.


	8. Chapter 8

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

"So, what do you think?" Mike asked Steve as they left Victor Cruz's bungalow home. With Steve fresh on the case as well as recently back from an extended leave, Mike wanted a chance to evaluate the young man's thoughts.

"Cruz seemed genuinely frustrated that he didn't know more. He gave the impression that he was mystified by the situation. It didn't seem like he was hiding anything. What about ballistics? Anything unusual about the weapon?"

"It was a Saturday Night Special, so nothing unusual there. But what's interesting is the model is an MP-25. Those are relatively new guns and they've only been produced in the last two years. We have bullets from both Valdez and Cruz, so we've got evidence to link if and when we find the weapon." Mike noted.

"Perhaps there aren't too many of the MP-25's on the street if they are so new. If we find out how many places sell those guns, we can try to get a customer list," Steve suggested.

"That would be good for you to look into when we get back to the office. In the meantime, let's go pay a visit to Mrs. Valdez."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Maria Carolina Valdez sat on the steps of her building watching her two young children at play when the two detectives pulled up.

"Mrs. Valdez, I'm not sure you remember me considering how soon it was after your husband's death when we spoke. I'm Lieutenant Stone of the Homicide unit of the SFPD. This is my partner, Inspector Keller."

"Ma'am," Steve said as he nodded at the sad woman.

"Of course, sir, I do remember you. Let's go inside," she said as she ushered the men into the living room of her first floor flat. "Have there been any developments?"

"Well, first, we have made headway in identifying a witness. He may have been attending a conference nearby. One of my men is following up on that. Secondly, we have the type of gun identified that was used against your husband," Mike said.

Steve added, "The other victim of the crime cannot recall much although he did say that the two men accused your husband of going too far. That's why we're here, ma'am. We're trying to see if there could be any action your husband may have taken, whether on purpose or by accident, that could have been construed by others in a negative way."

"Hernando was training as an environmental engineer. He earned his degree a couple of years ago and had been recruited to work on some clean up projects recently," Mrs. Valdez responded.

"Does the phrase "gone too far" mean anything to you within the context of your husband?" Mike asked.

Mrs. Valdez thought for a moment. She was not searching her memory, but instead trying to phrase her words carefully.

"On the Marin County clean-up, Hernando found the source of substantial toxic run-off that was entering the water supply there. He reported it to his superiors and they investigated. Hernando took it upon himself to go back there last month and retest the source."

Steve was intrigued. "What did he find?"

"The toxin level was back to where it was before the clean-up," she answered.

"Who knows about this?" Mike asked.

"Hernando took it to his supervisors, but there was no action. So Hernando went to the company that has the operations which are apparently causing the problems. He wasn't allowed to get beyond security. There was a bit of an altercation."

"When did that occur?" Steve inquired.

"About two weeks ago. But there's more. Hernando went back to his supervisors. Again, they did nothing. Hernando was starting to look into go to the press with the story."

"Mrs. Valdez, we need names – especially of the company that your husband felt might be causing the environmental concern," Mike asserted.

"I don't know for certain. I've kept all of Hernando's working papers intact. You are free to look through them."

"Thank you, ma'am, we will." Mike replied.

At that moment, a small girl appeared in the room and walked over to her mother.

"Mama, I'm scared," she said quietly as she stood behind her mother.

"What is the problem, Anna?"

"Who are these men and did they do something to daddy?" she whispered.

Mike and Steve were surprised at the directness of the girl's question and waited for Mrs. Valdez to reply. "No, sweetheart, they are police officers, and they are here to help find who hurt your daddy."

Steve looked at Mrs. Valdez with a sudden sadness. Little Anna caught Steve's glance and asked, "Are you going to find who killed our daddy?"

"Yes, sweetie, we are here to do just that and we will give it our best effort."

Mrs. Valdez responded. "You have no idea how difficult this has been for us. It has been so very frightening to think that someone would harm Hernando on purpose. He was such a good man. He was a Godly man. He tried to do the right thing."

"Yes, ma'am," was all Steve could say as he looked down.

"I light a candle for him every night and we say prayers. We're just trying to make sense of this. I know you must see this every day. I mean it's in the papers all the time about people getting killed, but you never think it will happen to someone close to you."

"No, ma'am, you're right," Steve looked over to Mike for saving.

"Mrs. Valdez, would you mind showing us your husband's desk and papers? It's imperative that we get on this right away."

"Absolutely, right this way."

Mrs. Valdez showed Mike and Steve to her late husband's office which was located in a spare bedroom. A typewriter and notebooks were neatly arranged on the desk. "I believe he kept most of his notes on Marin County in the red notebook," she added. She then excused herself to tend to her daughter.

"You okay?" Mike asked his partner.

"I guess. When she said we wouldn't understand what they were going through…," Steve stopped. "You know, before the situation with Connie occurred, I could honestly tell you that I probably didn't. But I certainly do now."

Mike nodded.

"It doesn't make it any easier, but it adds another level of urgency knowing the pain they are going through."

The detectives poured through the paperwork and Steve took notes on what they could. From it, they were able to glean the name of the company that Hernando questioned, Sheffield Waste Management.

One missing piece of information they needed was the names of Hernando's superiors. If Hernando had reported the problem to management, the supervisors could be involved. Mrs. Valdez was unaware of the superiors' names. Since most of Valdez's work had been project oriented, including the Marin clean-up, there was likely a different project lead to whom he would have reported.

"Perhaps we should call Cruz," Steve suggested. "He could help us navigate through the bureaucracy to find out who Valdez may have told. Steve attempted to make the call from Mrs. Valdez's phone but there was no answer. Steve relayed the news to Mike.

Something felt odd to the senior detective. "We need to get over there now."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike and Steve looked around the front of Cruz's bungalow as Steve knocked on the man's door. With no answer, Steve knocked louder. Barely more than a half hour had passed from the time they had left Cruz.

"Something isn't right," Mike shook the knob on the front door. "Steve, you go around to the back. I'm presuming there's a back door. See if you can raise him that way," Mike said as he walked to a front window and began peering through.

Steve walked the gangway between Cruz's bungalow and his neighbor. He was able to see through a break of curtains on one of the side windows and saw the place in a state of disarray. It hadn't been like that an hour ago.

As he climbed the steps up the back porch, he noticed the door was slightly open. Gun drawn, he walked in. The young detective looked around the kitchen and called out to Cruz. With total silence surrounding him, he remembered Mike was at the front door, so he holstered his gun and made his way to the front.

As he walked into the main living area, Steve saw Cruz's body face down on the floor. A pool of blood surrounded his midsection. Steve stopped in his tracks.

The killers had not anticipated the detectives' return. Instead of killing Cruz and leaving, they had opted to make it look like a break in and spent time ransacking the home.

The two intruders saw their opportunity for escape with the detective only feet away and his back to their shadows. With Stone waiting at the front door, shooting the young man would draw immediate attention and was not an option. Quickly, the older of the intruders jumped behind Steve and clubbed the back of his head with his pistol.

"Let's get out the back quickly before the other one comes around. We can get to the car through the alley," the attacker instructed.

For Steve, the pain was brief as darkness overtook him. He did not remember hitting the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Mike had an odd feeling the minute they pulled up to Victor Cruz's bungalow. From the outside, nothing looked amiss, but the older detective could not mollify the unsettled nerves in his stomach. It had been too long since his partner went to check the back of the house, and Mike knew it. The Lieutenant knocked on Cruz's door one more time, but did not bother to wait more than just a few seconds.

He knew that Steve went down the gangway, so he carefully looked around the corner to see if his partner was in sight. Seeing no one, Mike drew his gun and headed down the path to the back porch. Rounding the corner, he saw the back door wide open. Mike shouted his partner's name, but heard no response. The nerves in his stomach were now in overdrive.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

For a split second, Steve thought he was lying on an incredibly hard mattress or perhaps an uncomfortable sofa. Perhaps he'd had too much to drink and was sleeping it off somewhere. Was he still in Tahoe? Berkeley perhaps? The excruciating piercing pain in the back of his head told him that it was more than a hangover. He ran his hand across the back of his head and groaned.

He managed to roll over on his side. His head was swimming and he still hadn't opened his eyes. Suddenly he heard footfalls coming his way.

"Steve," he heard a concerned voice nearing. Mike grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his partner's hand away from his head.

"Let me look. Who did this to you?"

The memory was coming back to him now. He tried opening his eyes, but the light was too bright.

"Steve, can you hear me?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Now what happened?"

The fog and confusion had only just begun to clear. "Hang on, I need a minute."

Mike looked over and saw Victor Cruz lying in a pool of blood. He hurried over to check his pulse and found nothing. "Cruz is dead. I'm going to call this in and get an ambulance."

"Not for me. No ambulance," Steve responded. "Just give me a minute."

"You need to get to a hospital. You're acting like you might have a concussion or worse, a skull fracture. What happened? Did someone hit you in the back of the head?"

He was beginning to have a clearer picture of the events of the last few minutes. "Yeah, I came in through the back door. It was quiet and kind of eerie. I decided to walk through and unlock the front door for you. When I saw Cruz on the floor, that was it. Someone clubbed me from behind."

"Did you see anyone?"

"No, not at all."

"Was there just one attacker?"

"I don't know. It was so quiet. The back door was open, so I called out to Cruz. There was nothing, no noise, nothing."

Mike needed to get help. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

"Okay, but no ambulance."

"Steve, you need a doctor. What - am I supposed to carry you to the car and drive you to the hospital?" the concern outweighed the sarcasm in his voice.

"Just give me a minute. I'll be able to walk."

"Just give you a minute? That's the third time you've said that." Mike countered.

Steve sat up. His head was spinning. "See, I got that far." He forced back the bile that was threatening to come out.

"Okay, no ambulance, but as soon as I get a unit over here, I'll have one of uniforms drive you to the hospital."

"Deal."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Two hours later, Mike entered the Emergency Room of St John's Hospital and found the receptionist.

"I'm looking for Steve Keller. He came in here a couple of hours ago."

"Yes, room four."

It was déjà vu. Mike flashed back to the last time he was at St. John's with Steve. It was a month ago when he drove Steve here after getting word that Connie had been gravely injured. Mike shook his head at the memory and coincidence. It was even the same emergency room number. What was the chance of that happening?

He found the room and knocked on the door. "Come in." It was Steve's voice and he was alone.

"How are you doing? Have you seen the doctor yet?" Mike asked.

"Yes, they took me to x-ray. We're waiting on the results, but I'm feeling better."

"Oh, you are, are you? How's the headache?" Mike was dubious.

"It's there."

Mike noticed how pale the young man looked. "I'd feel better if you had more color."

"I probably would too," Steve replied with a weak smile.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, when Steve finally said, "It's the same room, you know."

Mike looked down. "Yes, I thought that, too. I'm sorry."

"Me, too. I just want to get out of here." He looked around ostensibly planning his escape. "What if I leave right now. What would happen?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. I can't stand to be in here. Can I just go into the waiting room? You can tell them where I am."

"Come on, Steve. Hang in there for a few more minutes," he gazed at his partner. "I'll go find someone and see how long it will be. Would you feel better if there was another room available?"

"I don't want to be a child about this, but yes. It's a bit overwhelming to be here."

"I understand. Just hang in there and don't leave."

Mike walked out and quickly found the ER doctor headed his way. Mike flashed his badge and asked if he was the doctor on duty who was treating Steve.

"Yes, I'm Doctor Rubenstein. I was just on my way in to see Mr. Keller."

"Great," Mike turned around and walked back to Room 4.

"Steve, the doc is here."

Steve nodded as the doctor grabbed his chart. "Well, Officer, you are very lucky. Your x-rays look good. Your pupils look good, too. I would say you have mild concussion. We won't admit you, but we will give you some instructions that you should follow over the next 24 hours."

"Okay, that's fine. Can we leave?"

The doctor noticed Steve was breathing heavily, nearly hyperventilating. "Mr. Keller, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just a little anxious to leave."

"It looks like a full fledged panic attack. Have you had this before?"

"No, sir. I'd just like to get out of this room, please. Can I wait in the ER waiting room? I'll be better there," Steve didn't wait for an answer, but left Mike and the ER doctor standing in the room.

"What was that about?" the doctor asked.

"He lost his girlfriend in this same room about four weeks ago. She was killed by a serial killer. It was too much for him to be here."

"I remember that now and I understand. Okay, I'll have the nurse bring out the discharge papers and home instructions. If there are any problems or complications, you get him back here. And we'll try to keep him of this room if he does need to come back."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

"I'll drive you home," Mike said as they left the hospital.

"Sounds good to me. Thanks," Steve countered. "What happened with Cruz, anyway?"

"Gunshot to the heart. He was dead before he hit the floor," Mike relayed.

"We were just there. Damn it, I can't believe someone got to him when we were just there." The frustration of not being able to save someone else in peril showed clearly in Steve's voice.

"No one heard or saw a thing. They left right under our noses, too."

"I'm sorry, Mike. I'm sorry I let them get me."

"It wasn't your fault. They weren't expecting us, and they needed a way to get out of there. The only way out was the back, so they went for it."

Steve sighed.

Mike continued, "The instructions the nurse gave us said that you need to wake up every three hours tonight. You can either stay at my place or I can call you and if you don't answer, I'll know to come over."

"You don't have to do that. I'm fine."

"You have no choice on this. It's one way or the other. Or, I could call Maya and she could stay with you." Mike teased with the last comment.

"Don't you dare. After the worry and stress I caused her the last three weeks - and I was right there with her. The last thing she needs is to get a call from you."

"Okay, Buddy boy. Which is it then?"

"Call me," Steve said quietly. "And for the record, don't call my sister on my behalf unless I'm dead or dying, okay? As many times as I get into scrapes around here, she surely doesn't need to know more than she already does."

"She worries about you. Imagine how much more she'd worry if she knew how many trips I've made with you to the local ER. Not that I'm happy about that."

"She wouldn't be surprised. She's been with me a few times to the hospital in Tahoe."

"You know, come to think of it, I recall you coming back from Tahoe with an injury or two."

"Yes, but those aren't in the line of duty."

"No, but prey tell, what are those injuries in the line of?"

"Nothing decadent, so get your mind out of the gutter. A couple of times, I've taken a good tumble while skiing. Another time was on the baseball field. You've known me for a few years now. Haven't you figured out I'm a bit accident prone?"

"If it weren't for bad luck…" Mike led.

"I'd have no luck at all," Steve responded with a sigh.

"_Ain't that the truth, Buddy boy." _Mike thought to himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **This is a chapter of police work and it features three of the supporting detectives in the series, Tanner, Lessing and Healy, as well as Mike and Steve.

Special call out to readers in Serbia/Montenegro. How exciting to see some hits on this story and its predecessor. Hope you enjoyed it!

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Bureau of Inspectors, the next morning**

Mike sat at his desk examining the red notebook that he and Steve retrieved from Hernando Valdez's home. The papers documented the water clean-up effort in Marin County the prior year. From what Mike could understand, Valdez and others were contracted to test the water around Sheffield Waste Management. They were to proceed with any clean-up efforts which would be included as part of a legal settlement against the company.

The documentation showed that there was an underground duct system that took run-off from one of the processing areas into a creek which flowed into a larger stream. Rangers at a nearby park had noted dead fish in the stream and alerted authorities.

Since most of the ductwork was underground, efforts were made to cap the drainage until another alternative could be built. Apparently, the cap was removed and the drainage began again after the initial clean-up.

_Certainly there is a motive here to silence Mr. Valdez if they resumed dumping the drainage into the water supply, _Mike thought. _And then adding to the clean-up issue was the fact that the supervisors did nothing when Valdez raised the question of the renewed contamination. This could go a couple of ways._

Mike walked over to the door and called out to Tanner. "Bill, when are you heading off on vacation?"

"In a couple of days. That's still okay, isn't it, Mike?"

"Sure. In the meantime, I'd like for you and Healy to work with the authorities in Marin County to see if we can set up some surveillance at the Sheffield Waste Management Company. There've been two men killed and a police officer assaulted, so one would think there'll be no problem in getting their cooperation."

"Speaking of police officer assaulted, how is Steve? Rough thing to happen when he was just coming back on duty."

"It was, but he's doing okay. It was a mild concussion. I talked to him this morning and he should be back tomorrow."

"Good to hear he'll be okay. I'll grab Healy and we'll go see our friends in Marin County." Tanner grabbed his coat.

"That's fine, Bill. I'll go talk to Valdez's and Cruz's supervisors on the clean-up. You know, I think Valdez knew about the problem coming back, but it sure didn't seem like Cruz did. He claimed to be an innocent bystander and we need to validate that he was."

Mike thought for a moment, "Lee, come here…I need your help. Go over to Victor Cruz's home and see if he had any records on an environmental clean-up project for Sheffield Waste Management in Marin County. Call me with what you find out."

"Got it, Mike."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF **

**The Next Day**

For the first time in a long time, Mike saw a full complement of detectives outside his office. Steve was back. Healy, Lessing and Tanner were also at their desks. Mike was pleased to see the team together. _It's good to be fully staffed at least for a day,_ he thought.

Mike clapped his hands as he walked out of his office. "Gentleman, let's talk about the Valdez case. What's the latest?"

The phone rang on Tanner's desk as Healy spoke, "We worked with Marin County PD and watched the comings and goings of Sheffield."

Mike perched himself on the corner of Steve's desk. "Did you see anything, Dan?" Mike inquired.

"Well, we did run the plates of every car that went in and out of the facility." Healy answered.

"And…"

"Three of the cars were registered to convicted felons. We're thinking that if Sheffield has hired any goons, that perhaps they might have a record. So, we're checking that out."

"Excellent. Lee, how about you? Did you find anything at Cruz's house regarding the clean-up or Sheffield?"

"No, Mike. I went through that house top to bottom and found nothing. Now, keep in mind that the house was ransacked. Perhaps whoever clubbed Steve had already found what they needed."

"Or it could be that Cruz didn't know anything that Valdez was working on," Mike pondered.

Tanner hung up the phone. "Watchya got, Bill?" Mike asked.

"That was Roy Smith. He was the witness who gave us the tip on the other conventioneer that was at Carl's Bar the night Valdez was killed." Tanner responded.

"Go on," Mike was eager to hear the development.

"He went through the list of the other convention attendees. We now have a name and address. It's John Rollins. He's a farmer who lives about twenty miles north of Minot, North Dakota."

"Minot, North Dakota, huh? Why, that's a long way from San Francisco," Mike mused. "What type of convention was this Farmer Rollins attending?"

"It had to do with growing rapeseed or something like that," Tanner replied.

"Are you saying grape seed, like Sonoma or Napa?" Mike queried.

"No. Sounds weird, but Smith called it 'rapeseed'…as in rape…"

"You don't need to go into details," Mike stopped the detective. "I just never heard of it."

"I believe I have," Steve offered. "It's a crop that's grown in part of Canada and the extreme North US. Part of the mustard family. Anyway, the seeds from the plant, or the rapeseeds, have a high oil content that can be used for everything from engine lubricant to cooking oil. Considering where it's grown, I'm not surprised that someone from North Dakota would be attending a conference about it."

He was tempted to go on, but instead gave an innocent wide-eyed look. The blank stares from his colleagues gave him sufficient satisfaction. It was apparent that his quest for knowledge had resulted in a vast mental library of trivia.

"How do know these things…." Mike began to ask as he quickly tried to reconcile the young man before him to the kid described by his sister as needing encouragement to finish high school.

The older detective shook his head and returned his thoughts to Tanner. "Okay, Bill. Do you have a number on Farmer Rollins?"

"Got it right here."

"What about Valdez's supervisors, Mike? Didn't you go over there yesterday to see what you could find out about them?" Lee asked.

"Thanks for reminding me. Yes, I did talk to his superiors there. The only thing I can say is that what I witnessed was government bureaucracy at its best. Or worst, depending on your perspective. I have a feeling that whatever Valdez relayed simply got lost in the bureaucracy."

"So it sounds like our two best leads are Mr. Rollins and the three ex-cons whose plates Tanner and Healy ran," Lee summarized.

"Yes. So let's do this," Mike ordered. "Steve, you and Lessing go to where Tanner and Healy were yesterday and see if you can find anything else out. Do like they did and get plate numbers of anyone going in or out. Tanner, you and Healy go run down the three ex-cons and see what you can find out. I'll call Mr. Rollins."

On the way back to his office, Mike lightly swatted Steve on the back of the head as payback for his impromptu rapeseed lecture.

"Concussion…" the younger detective reminded him playfully.

"Apparently the concussion did nothing to damage that brain of yours. What I'd give to see the archive of data up there."

Steve chuckled as he and Lessing headed out the door for a day of surveillance of Sheffield Waste Management.


	11. Chapter 11

Tanner and Healy spent the morning developing the leads they had obtained the day before. They were able to create a full profile for each of the three ex-cons whose cars were seen driving in and out of Sheffield's Waste Management.

They returned to the Bureau of Inspectors to give Mike an update.

"We ran each name and got their rap sheet and a better address than what the DMV. One rap sheet was a mile long." Healy announced.

"So tell me about these three," Mike requested as he leaned back in his office chair.

"The first is Bill Conway. He had a couple of DUI convictions downstate." Healy reported. "The last stemmed from an injury accident."

"Has he been arrested any other time?" Mike inquired.

"No, boss."

"Okay, the MO doesn't match. So, let's move on to the next one."

"Lenny Marshall," Tanner said. "He did two years at a minimum security for spousal abuse. It was his second conviction."

"The first conviction also related to domestic violence?"

"Yes, it was an assault wrap against a girlfriend."

"Okay, sounds like bad news, but probably not our guy. Let's go for the third one."

"Whitaker B. Nelson, also known as…Knuckles," Healy tried to hide a smirk when he divulged the nickname. "He's been convicted on three counts of assault with a deadly weapon, one count of aggravated battery and two counts of threatening a public official. He's done a couple of stints - totaling about five years. Nelson has been on parole since last year."

"Knuckles Nelson, heh?" Mike sighed. "My money is on number three. Tanner, go find out who his parole officer is and give him a call. I'd like to know the relationship with Sheffield."

Mike continued to look at the file. "Any outstanding warrants for these guys?"

"No, there'll all clean," Healy responded.

Several minutes later, Tanner returned with an update from Nelson's parole office. "The PO wasn't aware of any connection with Sheffield Waste Management."

Mike was curious. "And yet, you saw him on the premises. How long was he there?"

"He went in around 9am and left around 1pm."

"That's a bit longer than an incidental visit," Mike surmised. "Okay, let's call over to Judge Carter and explain what we have. I'd like a search warrant for Nelson's vehicles as well as his home. Let's check with Keller and Lessing and see if this car is at Sheffield's again. If so, we'll have them tail Nelson and see where he goes."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Steve and Lee watched as Whitaker Nelson's car pulled out of the Sheffield parking lot. It was shortly after 1pm. They began the tail in Marin County and followed Nelson across the Golden Gate bridge. Nelson stopped off at a Burger Chef, but aside from that appeared to be headed to his home.

"Inspectors 8-2 for Mike Stone," Steve said as he called dispatch.

Minutes later, "Stone."

"Yeah, Mike, it's Steve. We've been following Nelson and it looks like he's on his way home. Nothing out of the ordinary. Do you want us to go ahead and execute the search?"

"Yes, get his car and his home. We need to find that MP-25."

Nelson pulled into a subdivision of modest and mixed homes. The area was a direct match of his current known address. He pulled into a driveway and noticed the Ford LTD pulling up to the curb.

Steve and Lee exited their vehicle.

"Mr. Nelson?"

"Yeah, what do you want?," the stocky man turned around. Wearing a leather jacket and dark curly hair, Knuckles was around forty and looked as though he was built of bricks.

Steve flashed his badge identifying himself as a police officer and Lessing did the same. Nelson quickly turned and ran. Steve sprinted after Nelson while Lee returned to the unmarked police car and began pursuit. It took no time for Lee to catch up and pass Nelson who was running on the sidewalk with Steve trailing fifteen feet behind. Lee abruptly turned the wheel and ran the car upon the sidewalk. Nelson couldn't stop and crashed to the side.

Steve was quickly on him, but Nelson was not going down without a struggle. With a quick jab of his elbow into Steve's ribs, he managed to knock the wind out of the officer. As Steve reflexively reached around his middle, Nelson punched him in the jaw causing him to fall backward onto the sidewalk.

Not to be defeated, Steve reached over and grabbed Nelson's ankle. Nelson fought to free himself, shaking his leg in order to loosen the detective's grip. When that didn't work, Nelson grabbed Steve's hair and pulled up. This action enabled Nelson to put the young man in a headlock.

Instead of struggling to break the pressure from around his neck, Steve reached back and grabbed Nelson again by the ankle and pulled forward. Nelson fell back and Steve was free. Lee ran up with gun drawn. "Police, freeze! On your stomach and spread 'em!"

Steve crawled over and cuffed Nelson, leaving the ex-con on the ground. Lessing reached over and helped Steve up. "You okay, man?"

Out of breath, Steve told Lee as he rubbed his jaw, "Yeah, let's call for back-up and search the car."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The squad car arrived shortly and the uniformed officers took Nelson into custody. In the meantime, it took only minutes for Steve to find the MP-25 under the front seat of the car. Steve showed the gun to Lee and the other officers.

"Mr. Nelson, you are under arrest for the murders of Hernando Valdez and Victor Cruz." Lee then proceeded to read the Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law….."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

District Attorney Dan Evans entered Mike's office.

"Dan, good to see you!," Mike said as the DA pulled up a chair.

"I just heard about the search warrant that you got from Judge Carter. What's going on?"

"It's a double homicide, plus one of my men was attacked. We have a suspect that's on his way down with Keller and Lessing. He'll be booked and processed."

"What kind of a case do you have?"

"We were able to retrieve what we believe to be the murder weapon from the suspect's vehicle - an MP-25. We have three bullets from the victims to match, so the first thing we'll do is a ballistics check.

The suspect's name is Whitaker Nelson and he has connections with Sheffield Waste Management. Sheffield Waste Management has been under investigation and current litigation for toxic dumping, for which the two murder victims worked on the clean-up."

"Any witnesses?"

"Very little."

"What other physical evidence? Prints?"

"No - nothing there."

"Do you think it was a murder for hire?"

"I think that the Sheffield group hired a couple of goons. This Whitaker Nelson is the lead goon. We'll see if we can find out who the second one is."

"Mike, even with a ballistics match, you may not have enough for a conviction. You know that, right?"

"How do you figure?"

"One good attorney or even one good alibi would kill the case. Mike, you're going to need more."

"Go on."

"You need witness testimony or something that proves this Nelson was involved in the killings beyond reasonable doubt. Having the gun is not enough. The next best thing would be witness testimony. Either that or your going to have to have some physical evidence, like some sort of written documentation that links this waste management company to the murders.

Mike sighed. "I talked to John Rollins, our new witness. He lives in North Dakota, but I got him on the phone this afternoon. He clammed up. I couldn't get anything out of him."

"Damn," the DA said. "You'd better hope for more evidence or testimony. Perhaps your suspect could turn evidence against whoever hired him."

"Perhaps. Keller and Lessing should be here shortly. We'll see where we get to from here."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The uniformed officers escorted Knuckles Nelson into the interrogation room, followed by Lee. "Looks like we got our man!" Mike said as he rose from his chair and exited his offie. "Nice work, gentlemen! Where's Keller?"

"Getting an icepack for his jaw," Lee replied.

"What?"

"Nelson put up a bit of a fight, but nothing our boy couldn't handle," Lee said with a wink.

Mike sighed heavily. "You'll have to fill me in later."

"The guy's nickname is Knuckles, after all. I guess he had a reputation to uphold."


	12. Chapter 12

Whitaker Nelson made the call to his attorney. Within an hour, Marlin Simpson appeared. With the attorney present, Mike and Lessing were able to begin interrogation. DA Dan Evans also sat in.

"Mr. Nelson, could you tell us your connection with Sheffield Waste Management?" Mike asked.

"I have no real connection. I've been in discussion with the company about obtaining employment," Nelson replied.

"You've been seen on their premises for the last two days. I'll ask again, what is your business with them?" Mike pressed.

"I have been there becoming familiar with their operations. I'm under consideration for a security job there."

"You're an ex-con. Why should I believe that any company would hire you into their organization, let alone into security. Just what type of security would you be involved in?" Mike countered.

"No one knows a con better than a con, officer. Now what do you mean by 'what type of security'?" the ex-con was confused.

"Would you work on the premises or as a private bodyguard?"

"On premises."

"Do you know a Hernando Valdez or a Victor Cruz?" Lessing interjected.

"I do not."

"Mr. Nelson, both these men were killed by a handgun that is similar, if not the same, as the one you possess," Mike stuck with the facts. "If you are in anyway involved in this, it would behoove you to come clean now."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't even know what gun your are talking about."

Mike sighed. "There was a gun retrieved from your car."

"It's not mine. Someone must have planted it there."

Mike sighed and looked at Dan Ryan. "Nelson, your gun is over at the lab…"

"It's not my gun," Nelson corrected.

"The gun found in your vehicle is being tested against three bullets used to kill two men. Tell us Mr. Nelson, what this is about?"

"I know nothing," Nelson simply stated.

"Lieutenant, my client does not know anything. You do not even have the results of the ballistics test. If this is all you have, you need to let him go."

"I can hold him here for a while. Certainly until we know the ballistics results."

"Just because he is an ex-con does not give you the right to question him on this crime," Simpson countered.

"Mr. Nelson assaulted a police officer this afternoon," Lessing stated. "He needs to answer for that."

"We can hold Mr. Nelson for 72 hours without bail," DA Dan Evans responded. "By then I am thinking we can sort out the whole ballistics and assault charge."

"Perhaps during that time, Mr. Nelson can also remember what his involvement is with Sheffield and Valdez and Cruz." Mike turned to Lee and said, "Lessing, get him in the lock-up for now."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

DA Evans followed Mike back to his office and shut the door.

"Mike, that guy is not going to crack. I've seen his type before. We need something more and you have seventy two hours to get it."

"I know, I know. We need to get him to fold on Sheffield." Mike was frustrated.

"You also need a witness. This guy in North Dakota…tell me about your conversation with him," Dan added.

"He admitted that he saw the men in question in the bar. When I tried to get him to elaborate, he said that he didn't want to get involved. He was afraid for his family."

"Did he understand that he may be responsible for leaving a couple of killers on the street?"

"He did, but I think that he didn't care. He's over one thousand miles away. Out of sight, out of mind."

"Mike," Dan said, "You need to get out there and talk to him. Get him to sign a statement or better yet, get him to come back here."

Mike nodded his head.

"You've got seventy two hours or this guy will go free and he'll never see the inside of the courtroom."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike sat in his office thinking of the Valdez case. In his gut, he felt that Nelson was the one who was the trigger man. There was something too hard edged and fearless about him. The "what gun?" defense was too absolute. Mike didn't believe for a minute that the gun just materialized or was planted in Nelson's car. Nelson knew more than he let on. He was a hired hand, and they needed him to implicate whoever hired him.

There were few things he could do. One would be to continue to find the link between Nelson and Sheffiled Waste Management. The other would be to find the associate of Nelson who accompanied him to Carl's Bar and Grill the night of the first shooting.

A third thing would be to have a run at John Rollins in person and try to get a statement from him. If the ballistics test came out positive, and he could get more evidence or testimony, he'd have a very strong case.

Mike looked over to the desk outside of his office. Steve had been in the break room with an icepack on his swollen jaw. His partner had also taken a couple of aspirin for the pain and swelling. Between the two remedies, the jaw was back to near normal size and Steve was back at his desk.

Mike got up to check on his partner. "You doing okay?" he asked.

"Terrific." Steve stated somewhat sarcastically.

"How's the jaw?"

"Better. My ribs are okay too."

"What happened there?"

"Knuckles over there decided to insert his elbow into my rib cage, but it wasn't anything serious."

"Did you get x-rayed?"

"No, but Lenny dusted off his medical degree and took a quick look. If it had been bad, he would have sent me ahead to the hospital. It actually doesn't hurt and there's not much bruising."

Mike sighed. "You up for a road trip?"

"As long as it's not a trip to the hospital." Steve replied.

"No, let's hope not. I need to get to North Dakota and talk to John Rollins. We'll need to convince him to at least make a statement. What'd be better is if he could return to San Francisco and do a live ID."

"Just to hedge our bets, could we bring some pictures with us and see if he can pick out Nelson?" Steve asked.

"Just what I was thinking, Buddy boy."

"All right, you're on. But why can't just one of us do this? Shouldn't one stay here and help with the other leads."

"We need two so we'd a witness to the questioning and to any statement Rollins makes. Certainly, we'll work with the local authorities to get access to be on his property, but I need two of us meet with him," Mike responded.

"Got it."

"I'll clear it with Rudy and have someone down at Central Admin to make the travel arrangements. It's not easy to get there and we have less than seventy two hours before Knuckles is released."

"Minot is in the northwest corner of the state and there's no large airport near there. We'll probably have to connect through Minneapolis or Denver. It will be a long trip going and coming back" Steve responded.

"There's definitely going to be some sort of connecting flight. I know it won't be easy to get there but we need to get something more in order to keep him in custody."

"Clobbering me wasn't enough?" the young man asked slyly.

"Unfortunately, no. His assault was a function of the arrest and if we don't prove a strong case to arrest, then his actions towards you will be minimized. I'll go get clearance and then get the rest of the team lined up on what they should be doing."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Between the three of them, I want them to focus on all known associates of Nelson. They need to be snooping around Sheffield Waste Management, too. Why don't you run home and pack for a couple of days travel and meet me back here? It will be pushing it, but we should be able to get a red eye to some point east still tonight."

"You're right. With seventy two hours, we don't have time to spare," Steve agreed as he headed out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**San Francisco International Airport**

This was Steve's first time traveling with Mike outside of the San Francisco area. It was obvious to the young man that his partner possessed an abundant amount of nervous energy when it came to traveling. The older man checked his watch, his ticket and his carry on bag in alternating fashion at least a dozen times over the course of a half hour. He even asked Steve to look at his ticket to make sure it was in proper order.

"You never know about ticket agents. The girls at Central Administration are good, but mistakes get made," Mike insisted. Steve smirked at his friend.

Checking the itinerary again, Mike thought out loud. "We'll get to Denver just after midnight and find an airport hotel. Then, we'll catch the flight out to Minot in the morning."

"What time is the flight to Minot?" Steve asked.

"It's at 9am." Mike said as he looked around and then checked his watch.

"So then we'll get to Minot around noon. By the time we get a car, get hooked up with the local police and out to Rollins' farm, we're talking 1pm at the very earliest." Steve was also trying to calculate the timeline in his head.

"One of the sheriff's deputies is picking us up at the airport, so that will help. Still, given the time change, that means we've already chewed up twenty hours of the seventy two and we haven't said a word yet to Rollins," Mike figured.

"You know Rollins is there, right?" Steve asked.

"Yes, I called over there and his wife said that he was working the irrigator. So he's definitely there at the farm."

It wasn't two seconds later that Mike was checking his watch against the airport clock.

"Have you flown often?" Steve asked in an attempt to take Mike's mind off the pending departure.

"Helen was from Gary, Indiana. When she was alive, we'd go back there once a year. I know the flight from San Francisco to Chicago very well." Mike smiled and then saddened at the recollection. He quickly sought to change his own mood. "How about you, Buddy boy? Have you done much flying?"

"Well, remember that Berkeley sniper case we were on a few months ago? Alan Melder and Peggy Dunnigan? I flew down to the naval hospital in San Diego to meet with Alan."

"I remember it well."

"That was the one and only time I've flown."

"You're kidding. Hey, you're not going to get nervous or sick on me, are you?"

"Sick _on_ you? I doubt it. Nervous? I'm too tired to be nervous. I just want to take a nap after we take off."

"They're serving a light dinner. Don't you want to eat?"

"Only if I can't sleep."

"How's the jaw anyway?"

"It's fine. I don't think it looks too bad," he angled it toward Mike. "It doesn't even look like it will be bruised."

"It'll be sore in the morning, though."

The pair boarded their flight and minutes later, roared down the runway. On ascent, they saw the City by the Bay in its glorious nighttime splendor. Both men peered out the window. "What an amazing sight, huh?" Mike asked.

"Yeah - I think I can even see Candlestick. Hey, wake me when we get to Denver." Within minutes Steve was sound asleep.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Denver International Airport, 8:30 am**

Steve looked dazed as he sat near the window overlooking the tarmac with his and Mike's bags. _Is it possible to be this tired and still be awake?_ he thought to himself. By the time they arrived in Denver, found a hotel and settled for the night, it was nearly 2am. Mike had the front desk ring at 6am for a wake-up call. _Four hours for sleep and half of that was hearing Mike toss and turn in the squeaky bed on the other side of the room, _he rolled his eyes at the thought.

Mike checked at the gate to see if the flight was on time. Steve saw him return with a decided frown.

"What?"

"The plane is coming in from St. Louis and it's running late. Apparently, there was fog there this morning," Mike responded.

"What does that mean for our departure?" Steve asked gingerly. His jaw was indeed sore that morning.

"About an hour late. I should call over to the Sheriff's office and let them know." Mike was up again and darted over the payphones.

Steve couldn't decide whether he was amazed or annoyed with his partner's hyperactivity. He rested his head against the back of the seat. _With any luck, I can doze for a while, _the young man thought before sleep claimed him. The next thing he knew, Mike was shaking his shoulder as they called for boarding an hour later.

"Apparently, you can sleep anywhere, Buddy boy. Wish I could do that. When you get to a certain age, you sleep lighter."

"Yeah," was the only response Steve could come up with as he pried his eyes open and grabbed his bag.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The day was bright in Denver and as they took off, Mike leaned over to look out the window as they made their ascent.

"Would you look at that?" Mike exclaimed.

"What?"

"The Rocky Mountains. It's simply grand, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Steve smiled. Mike was almost like a kid in a candy store.

Once well in the air, Mike leaned over to look again, much to Steve's chagrin. "You can switch seats with me, if you like, Mike."

"Oh, no - it's okay. But just look at all of that. Nothing but mountains and land. It makes you realize just how vast this country is."

Steve nodded in agreement as Mike continued optimistically. "I've flown over this before from San Francisco, but never so close like you do coming out of Denver. It's just humbling to see these fantastic mountains."

Steve shrugged. "I'm still tired. Why don't we switch seats? You can be awestruck and I can get some more rest."

"You okay? Aside from announcing you're taking a nap, you've been fairly quiet."

"Well, the beatings have probably taken a toll," Steve said with a slight smile.

"You know, it's just been a few days since you came back, Steve. I'm just wondering if everything else is going okay."

"Other than a mild concussion, a banged up jaw and a few bruised ribs?" he chuckled. "Although, strangely enough, those injuries did at least take my mind off of other things."

"But I guess I want to know that considering those 'other things', whether you feel better about being back."

"You mean back at work?" the young man paused for a moment. "I guess I feel okay about it. I mean, I'm not quite sure what else I would be doing. Mrs. Valdez and her daughter - I could see the anguish they were going through. Really, it wasn't just seeing - I could feel it - deeply. And if there's anyway I can help with that, well - it's not such a bad way to spend my time."

"You're not entirely convincing, but at least it sounds like you are feeling a little better about being here."

Steve shrugged and looked out the window. "I guess it will take time."

Minutes passed and Mike began reading the in-flight magazine.

"I'll never understand why, Mike. For the life of me, why it had to be Connie." Steve said quietly.

Mike put the magazine down. "We never know why things happen. I truly believe the Lord works in mysterious ways."

"Mike, don't. I know what you are trying to do, but that doesn't hold for me now," Steve said calmly. "There's nothing mysterious about this. You cannot tell me that you truly think God was there as that monster raped and strangled Connie and those other women."

Mike swallowed. He didn't want to push it with Steve, but he had been wanting to get him to open up. "I couldn't even begin to understand what those girls went through."

"I'm sorry," Steve said quietly. "I know that you and Maya are worried about me. Maya thinks her little brother is going to be doomed to hell if he doesn't get his act together. I appreciate that. But I really don't know what to tell you. You're a lifelong Catholic and she's a born-again Pentecostal. You both have faith that I can't begin to understand."

"Maya gave me the impression that you had _lost_ your faith but only when all this happened. Are you telling me that you were just going along with it all before? Was it only for Maya's benefit?"

"No, not really. There was a time when I felt like no matter how bad things got, 'Someone' was watching over me. I'd go to church with her and I did get something out of it - at least for a while. It helped me get through some tough times when our mom died and then again when I was trying to get used to being out west in strange surroundings with Maya."

Mike listened as Steve continued. "But when this happened with Connie, it was the final straw. I guess being a cop and seeing such bad things happen to good people these last few years, I couldn't see how God could allow it all to occur. I just don't feel that there's anyone looking out for any of us."

"I'm sorry. It sounds as though being a cop only contributed to the problem." Mike sat thoughtfully.

"But it seems like it only strengthened your faith. How do you figure that?" Steve asked.

"Because what we see every day is the act of man. Man is imperfect. And sometimes I do think some of what we see is the act of the devil," Mike replied.

"I'll say. I wouldn't be surprised that the devil had a hand in King." Steve added.

"Sometimes I think it's easier to believe in the devil than it is in God," Mike said quietly and then continued. "But then I see the other side: birth, life, forgiveness…that shows me that God is at work."

Steve nodded. "You've kept your faith at work and even when losing Helen. I know you were married to her much longer than Connie and I were together, so I can imagine her loss was even harder for you."

"No, Steve, I honestly can't say it was harder than what you've been through. It was very hard, don't get me wrong. But you and Connie had your lives ahead of you and you didn't get your chance to be together. And the way that poor girl died was just horrible. Not that cancer isn't horrible, but at least Helen and I had nearly twenty years."

Steve nodded at Mike's understanding. "How did you keep your faith during that time?"

"I had counsel from the church. All of these priests that I know across the city - they kept me in line." Mike chuckled to himself. "And I had Jeannie. That's key too. But I had a good support group. That's so important."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve said as returned his gaze back to window.

Mike thought about his 'support group' comment. Despite living in the area for a few years, Steve wasn't really established in San Francisco. While he dated and had some casual friends, he was primarily there to work. His only relative lived across the state. She seemed to be a fantastic woman, but for the most part, Steve was dealing with Connie's death alone especially now that he was back in the city.

"You know, Steve. If there's anything I can do or anything that you ever need, you can always count on me. And Jeannie too."

"I know," Steve said quietly. "Thanks." He returned his glance out the window.

_She would have loved these mountains. She loved to ski. We had a blast when we went to Tahoe together. There's so much that she never got to do,_ Steve thought to himself.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Giving credit to Hamtor for a particular phrase in this story!

**Somewhere over South Dakota**

Mike and Steve had seventy-two hours to reach their witness in remote northwest North Dakota, convince him to identify the suspect and return home to San Francisco. Under most circumstances this would be an adequate amount of time.

But time was not their friend on this trip.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the tower in Minot just informed me that they are in the midst of a wave of severe thunderstorms. We've been advised to stay clear of the area. We will be circling over South Dakota for a period of time until we get our next instructions," the pilot announced.

"Great. We'll never get there at this rate," Mike grumbled as he looked at his watch.

An hour later: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we've been informed that the storms have continued, along with substantial hail. The airport in Minot has been temporarily closed. We'll be landing in Rapid City. On behalf of the airline, our apologies for the inconvenience."

"You have got to be kidding me," Mike was exasperated.

"Now what do we do?" Steve inquired calmly.

"Settle down, Buddy boy. We'll see if we can get a rental car in Rapid City and drive up."

Steve suppressed a grin. Normally, when Mike said 'settle down' to Steve, or anyone for that matter, it generally meant that it was the senior partner who needed to take a deep breath.

They had the good fortune to find a car at the rental office in Rapid City given the fact that many passengers had been stranded. At the rental counter, the agent provided a map and told the detectives the driving distance to Minot was four hundred miles. "That will take at least seven hours," Steve calculated, "but there's nothing we can do but drive."

By the time they reached Minot, it was nine o'clock in the evening. Mike kept in touch with the Sheriff's office to keep them apprised of their status. Because the storm damage drained the rescue and law enforcement resources, there was no one available to take them out to the Rollins farm until morning.

Defeated in their hopes of reaching Rollins that day, the pair opted for a late dinner and called it a night.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

**Minot, North Dakota **

The following morning, Mike and Steve met Deputy Perkins at the Sheriff's office. Perkins, a middle aged balding man with dark hair and a moustache extended his hand to the older detective and greeted them both with a warm smile. "Lieutenant, it's a pleasure to meet law enforcements officers from outside of the area."

As the men left the office, Perkins continued, "The Rollins live almost a half hour north of here. Perhaps on the way you can brief me on your case and I can fill you in a bit on the Rollinses."

"You know them well?" Steve asked.

"I went to school with John Rollins. He's a solid, God-fearing man and he has a good family. They are tight knit. He didn't want to go out to California in the first place, but he needed to for the farm. He distributes seed for one of the large rapeseed companies out of Canada. The training was mandatory. I doubt if he would have gone otherwise."

"I understand," Mike replied. "But unfortunately, he may have been a witness to a killing. Very likely it was a professional hit. We have a man in custody, but Mr. Rollins statement is critical to make the arrest stick."

The men got into the Ward County Sheriff's police car. Both out-of-towners took off their jacket and ties and laid them in the trunk. Mike took the front passenger seat, while Steve climbed into the back.

"We're not used to this stifling heat, Deputy. I hope you'll forgive us," Mike said.

"You city folks…no one wears a coat and tie around here anyway," Perkins smiled. After a few miles, the deputy continued. "Ward County stretches up quite a ways along the Des Lac river. The end of the county is only about seventeen miles south of the Canadian border."

"Oh, we're going to be that close to Canada?" Mike asked. Steve grinned at his partner. The one big thing he learned about Mike was the he was hell on wheels to travel with. Every aspect of the trip was exciting to the older detective.

"We won't go all that way, but yes we'll probably be a half hour south of Saskatchewan by the time we get to the Rollins."

"Those were some storms that went through yesterday. They even shut the airport down. Does that happen often?" Steve asked.

"Not really, but there was hail damage and the control tower was having problems. There's another line of storms coming through this morning too. Really, it's just too damned hot right now for this area. Something has to break. Look at how threatening those skies over to the west look. We could be in for more trouble."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The deputy and his guests drove up State Highway 52 until they reached any area called Donnybrook. In the distance, Steve saw a large butte among the rocky terrain, but on the east side, near the river, there was fertile farmland. Deputy Perkins followed one of the farm roads for several more miles.

"Talk about remote," Mike mentioned.

"Yes, most of these people are native to the area. Many are direct descendents of the settlers from the 1800's."

Deputy Perkins turned onto an even smaller road and drove over a one lane bridge which appeared to cross a small creek. "Don't ever see anything like this in San Francisco?" Deputy Perkins asked.

"No, sir. Not at all," Mike replied.

The trio passed a small farmhouse on the right. Steve saw a couple of children playing and an older woman hanging out clothes to dry. "I guess those people are the closest thing that the Rollins have to neighbors?" Steve speculated.

"You got that right," the deputy said as he continued to drive. "The older woman is John's aunt," Deputy Perkins smiled.

They reached the Rollins farm a quarter of a mile later. The farmhouse was a large two story structure with a wrap around front porch. John Rollins walked out onto the porch to get a glimpse of the two police detectives from San Francisco.

"John." Deputy Perkins greeted the farmer.

"Tommy." Rollins replied. The skies had turned very overcast and the wind had picked up.

"Sure is a hot one," the deputy said very dryly. "This is Lieutenant Mike Stone and his partner, Inspector Keller. They've come quite a ways to talk to you about something you may have witnessed in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago."

"I know why they are here," Rollins answered. He then nodded at Mike and said, "Sir. We talked on the phone a few days ago. Why don't you come on in and get out of the wind and heat?" he said as he turned around and went back through the front door. Mike looked at Steve and shrugged.

"Macy, get these men something to drink. Maybe ice tea or lemonade?" Rollins said to his wife.

This was encouraging, Mike thought. At least he was being hospitable. Perhaps he was open to talk about what he saw.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Rollins came out with the beverages and served the three officers and her husband. Steve caught a quick glimpse of an older heavy set woman sitting at the kitchen table when Mrs. Rollins entered the front room through the swinging door.

Taking the drink, Steve looked around and saw pictures of their family. The couple appeared to have four young children.

"Lieutenant, I appreciate the fact that you and your partner came out all this way, but I don't think there's much I can tell you that I didn't say before."

"But you saw the men that followed Valdez and Cruz onto the parking lot?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"And did you see them arguing?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"Did you see one of the men shoot the other two men?"

"Sir, before that point I knew that nothing good was going to happen. I turned around and went the opposite way back into the restaurant. You see, I was headed out to my rental car which was parked in the same lot. I saw the four men together and then I saw the one man pull a gun."

"You saw him pull a gun?" Mike felt like he struck pay dirt.

"Yes sir, but I didn't see him shoot. I decided it was bad news, so I turned back around."

"Mr. Rollins, do you think you could recognize these men if you were to see them again."

"Inspector, after the Lieutenant called, I thought long and hard about all of this. I don't want to get involved. I don't want to put my family at risk. I've said too much already."

"But Mr. Rollins, why do you think he'd go to that extreme? You are over one thousand miles away."

"I may be a simple man, but I can tell - the gunman was working for someone. I heard him say that 'the boss said you went too far.'"

Mike's ears perked.

"Please understand that we need your statement. And if you can identify the suspect, then we'll have a very strong case for conviction," Steve persisted.

"You can't promise me that. If this man were to get off, he could come out and do harm to my family. I can't put them at risk."

Mike began to lose his patience as he responded. "Well, Mr. Rollins, if this man were to get off, he could also kill more innocent people and…."

Suddenly one of the kids came into the room from outside. From the looks of it, the boy was around twelve years old. "The sky is all purple and green. We're in for another storm. Daddy, I think we should go down to the cellar."

At that moment, Macy Rollins also came in. "John, they are saying on the radio that a tornado has been spotted near here."

Steve looked over at Mike and raised his eyebrows.

"Gentlemen, we need to go downstairs. Macy, round up the kids and let's get grandma down there too," Rollins quickly responded. Steve presumed this was the woman sitting at the kitchen table.

"Can I help?" Deputy Perkins asked.

"Sure, you can help with Grandma. We have to carry her down the steps."

"What about us?" Steve asked. "How can we help?"

"I got four kids that need to be rounded up. Can you help Macy with that?"

"You got it," Mike said.

"Let's see, we know where the boy is. What about the other three?"

"One of the kids was up at our neighbor's playing with another child," Rollins said as he and Perkins had hold of the grandmother. "They usually come down here when the weather is bad since their house doesn't have a storm cellar."

The men headed to the porch and saw two young girls running down the dirt road. The first girl looked to be around seven. She was running faster than the other, smaller girl. Behind her was the older woman who was struggling to make it. It was same three they saw at the house a quarter of a mile away.

The wind picked up considerably and debris began to fly.

"You grab the first girl and help Macy. I'll run down and get the other girl and the woman," Steve shouted to Mike.

Mike nodded and made his way twenty yards to the first girl. "I got you baby, come with me and I'll take you to the cellar," he said as he picked her up in one movement and then turned towards the house. She gave little resistance.

Mike saw Macy holding onto the other two missing children by the hand. She looked over at Mike with fear in her eyes. The winds were now making it hard to walk. Marble sized hail began hitting the ground. She and the kids ducked their heads as they ran to the porch as fast as they could.

"The storm cellar is on the side. We need to get down there," she shouted to Mike. They dashed off the porch and around the corner.

As they neared the cellar, Mike, who was still holding the scared young girl in his arms, turned to check on his partner. Steve had the other little girl in one arm and the older woman by the elbow. The three were fifty yards away but struggled to stay on their feet.

Suddenly, the defining roar of a freight train sounded.

"This is it," Perkins yelled to Mike. "Into the cellar."

"But," Mike couldn't do anything other than point. All he could see was the hail coming down harder and larger. His eyes widened as he saw a rotating wall of dust and debris in the field on the other side of Steve.

"I'm sorry. We can't help them. It would be suicide to go out there now."


	15. Chapter 15

The prickly feel of dirt, debris and small rocks stung everywhere. With dust in his eyes, Steve could hardly maintain a squint to get his bearings as he held the little girl tightly in his left arm. His right hand had hold of the older woman, but she was staggering. Between her fall and the high winds, Steve could not keep his balance, and the trio took a tumble.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike and Deputy Perkins looked helplessly from the door of the storm cellar.

"I can't just leave them out there!" Mike's voice level would have been sufficiently loud in any other circumstance, but in the tornado's winds with its deafening train sound, he could barely be heard.

"You can't make it out. The winds are too strong." Perkins yelled back. The deputy's words were punctuated by the noise of transformers blowing.

"I can sure as hell can try!" Mike's determination spoke volumes for the loyalty he felt towards the young man he was trying to save.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Steve got to his knees and struggled to get enough footing to stand upright. He found the old woman's hand and tried in vain to help her up.

As the storm came closer, the three could do nothing to dodge the tree bark that was being stripped away. Back on her knees, the older woman paled and pulled her hand away. She shook her head and pointed to the back of the deputy's police cruiser.

Steve never heard the words she said, but figured that it was something like "save the girl". He hesitated because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the downed woman on the gravel road. But he ultimately turned and wrapped both arms around the girl, protecting her from the surroundings as best he could.

He barely felt the gouge in his right calf as a knife sized sliver of tree bark cut deeply into this leg. His knee began to buckle, but Steve lunged himself forward to compensate.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike set a foot away from the storm cellar, but quickly found that mother nature would win any race he intended to run to save his partner. He rounded the corner and found himself in the same debris-riddled windstorm that was claiming Steve and two others.

He took two steps before he was knocked off his feet. He lay flat face down and placed his hands over his head for protection.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

There was only ten feet to the back of the squad car. Steve planned to slide the girl under the back the car and then take cover himself. The girl buried her face in his neck. He could feel her tears streaming under his collar.

With only steps to go, Steve felt the impact of something against the back of his head and neck. Before the pain could travel far, his world quickly turned black.

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Had minutes gone by?

Steve lay face down on the ground as he lifted his head. He had indeed made it to the back of the squad car. The young girl was safely underneath, tucked well beyond the car's rear bumper. He could hear the child still crying, much to his relief. Steve was grateful to see the girl move. There were moments when he didn't think they would survive.

Figuring that the storm had not completely passed, the young man opted to leave the girl where she was. He felt numb - very numb. Steve needed to right himself, so he placed his hands on the rear bumper of the car and pushed up. His first instinct was to check on the older woman.

Inexplicably, she was up and walking toward the rapeseed field which was opposite of the farm house.

"You all right?" Steve asked as he ran to her side. He couldn't place why, but there was something odd about the way she was walking.

"Ma'am? I asked if you are all right?" Steve asked again.

"Of course. Are you?" the woman asked, looking at her companion.

"I guess. Just a little confused right now. Why are you walking towards that field?" Silently Steve continued to wonder why he was feeling so numb. The wind was blowing stiffly, but he too felt a peace that seemed incongruent with his surroundings.

"Don't you know?" she stared intently into the field as Steve looked at her. The lines on her face were fading. Steve redirected his look to the field. Whatever it was, it apparently gave the older woman peace and happiness and it was drawing him as well.

"Who's that?" Steve said as he continued to walk alongside the woman. There was clearly a man in a soldier's uniform standing in the midst of the field.

"It's my boy, Broderick. It's my boy!" Her voice was strong, yet wavering. "I've waited so long!"

"Has he been in Vietnam?" Steve was oddly intrigued.

"No, dear. He hasn't." The woman's smile had grown broadly.

_How did the soldier get here? _Steve thought to himself. _And why am I being drawn to this field? I should be back checking on the girl, Mike and the others._

Steve started to turn back when he saw something catch his eye. In the middle of the field, someone else was sitting on a bench.

_What the…_

A small blonde figure in a petite blue dress looked down as she was holding a bouquet of flowers. She angled her face towards Steve and smiled.

_Connie._

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

The winds had died down. Mike and Deputy Perkins had walked over to the porch to survey the situation. John Rollins made his way up from the storm cellar past the two men.

"Dear God," John said quietly. "Please, not my little girl. Not my Rachel!"

Rollins ran toward the squad car and saw someone lying still behind the car face down. Rollins started to check out the body when he heard his daughter cry out. "Baby, is that you? Come to me!"

Mike and Deputy Perkins were not long behind. They saw Rollins on his haunches talking to the girl under the car. As the two other bodies came into view, Mike swallowed hard. "No," he whispered to himself.

"I'll check Mrs. Wade," Deputy Perkins announced as he ran to the woman's side. He found her lying face down with a large wedge of tree bark protruding from her back surrounded by a large circle of blood. The deputy checked the woman's neck for a pulse and found none. He stepped over her body to look at her face. The still and glassy eyes displayed were enough to confirm Perkins's suspicions. Mrs. Wade was dead.

At the same time, Mike ran to Steve. He too was face down and had a large branch lying across the top of his back. There was little blood except for the injury in his leg. He rolled Steve over and was shocked to see how limp and slack jawed the young man appeared.

"It can't be. I won't accept this. Not like this!" Mike mumbled to himself. He felt for a pulse on his neck. "No, please no," Mike said as he hung his head down.


	16. Chapter 16

"Connie! What are you doing here?" Steve asked as he rushed to the bench. "I don't understand."

He was wide-eyed as he looked over to Mrs. Wade, who was becoming younger by the minute. The seventy year old woman whose hand Steve had held through the storm was now thinner and wrinkle free. She had lost thirty years in just minutes.

"Broderick! Oh, how I've dreamed about this day. I have missed you so much!" She looked at her son adoringly.

"Mama, I've come to take you home." the soldier replied with a large smile on his face. "It's going to be a wonderful reunion."

Connie watched Steve's reaction. Mrs. Wade knew exactly what was happening, but Steve was taken by complete surprise and still didn't seem to comprehend the situation. He then turned to her and the realization struck.

"So, this is it? Am I, you know…," Steve couldn't believe the words he was about the utter. "Are we all dead?"

Connie smiled. "Well, not quite."

"What do you mean? I know what happened to you." Sadness suddenly fell over Steve's face. "My God, Connie, I am so sorry. You didn't deserve any of this. You should still be alive now." Steve dropped to his knees and took Connie's hands. They felt warm and soft.

"It's okay, Steve. It was my time to move on. Just like Mrs. Wade did and just like her son did during the war in Korea." Steve looked over to the mother and son as she spoke. They were in a tight embrace as they walked further into the field.

"Connie, what are you saying?"

"Steve, quite frankly, you are here, but you're work isn't quite finished yet. You've been brought here to receive comfort and guidance. We know you've been struggling in accepting a lot of things, including what happened with King and my murder."

"I have. It's been so hard to go on. But now - you're okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what happened?" Steve was more curious than anything.

"No. I know that technically I was killed, but I don't remember it happening. I can only recall the peacefulness I felt when I first arrived here."

"I felt that too," Steve said as he looked around. "Connie, could I please stay?"

"You should go back this time."

"It's just so difficult to accept all that's happened. Why can't I just stay here and live in peace?"

"Honey, you still need to work on your beliefs. You've been in denial about a lot of things."

"But I've been hurting," the young man said with a whine and then paused for a moment. "Why is it that I have to go through all of this when others seem to live their lives without the drama?"

"Steve, what you go through - all of your trials and tribulations - it's not just for you. It's for those around you."

"I don't understand."

"Steve, things that happen to people - sometimes those lessons are not for the people that it happens to, but for those around them. Take for instance, Mike."

Steve turned around and saw Mike rolling over a body by the police car. The activity seemed to be going in slow motion. "Connie - what is going on over there?"

"Mike has you and he knows that there's something terribly wrong."

"Does he think I'm dead now?" Steve knew that such a revelation would be very painful for Mike.

"He suspects it. Look at his face."

Steve studied the fear and anguish on his partner's face and turned away. "I don't like to see this. I'm sorry."

"If you don't go back, things will go very differently for him."

"Like how?"

"Without you, he'll soon retire. While you have great coworkers, Mike really is a driving force in the homicide area. There'll be cases, including this one with John Rollins, which go unsolved because he and you are no longer there. That will eventually mean that there'll be some killers who murder again when they wouldn't have if you two were still on the job."

"He makes a difference, doesn't he?" Steve nodded his head.

"You both do. And your sister, Maya. Your death will leave her completely alone. She will have thought that she failed you. She'll be a changed woman."

Steve sighed. "She never failed me. She's been a beacon to me."

"And I'm not going to mention a few others that will become very dependent on you. Some that you haven't met yet and some that aren't even born yet," Connie winked as she said this. "Believe me, Baby, you won't regret going back. It's the right thing to do."

"Then, why was I brought here anyway? I mean, it's so good to see you, but why am I getting this glimpse."

"Because of what you have been through. You have suffered a lot. And you're a key part of the plan."

"Do I get to know what _that_ means?"

"No, because you will need to be making choices and those choices will be based on the values you have. If I told you the answers now, it'd be cheating. But what I am going to tell you is that you have choices."

"So what are my choices?" Steve asked.

"Well, the first one is go back or don't go back. If you go back, you get to modify your life and make things right. If you don't go back, you won't get that second chance. You'll be here, but you'll be considered a non-believer."

"So I need to go back, I get it. I don't like it, but I get it." Steve said as he was sulking.

"The comfort that we want to provide you will be based on one piece of knowledge that you'll be allowed to retain."

"Go on…" Steve was thoroughly intrigued.

"You can keep the understanding that God exists and you will understand that deep down in your soul. You can remember seeing Mrs. Wade and Broderick which will help you accept the fact that there's something here in the afterlife. Or you can rest in the knowledge that I'm okay." Connie asked with a sly grin on her face. She was even more beautiful now than ever before.

"Okay, which would you choose?" This was all very heady for Steve.

"No way. It's your choice."

Steve thought for a moment. "If I choose the knowledge that you are okay, then I can figure the rest of it out. Quite frankly, I haven't been able to live with the idea that you are gone. If I can remember that you are okay and in a better place, then I can go on and perhaps figure out the rest of it. So that's what I choose, that I know you are okay."

Steve was still on his knees clutching Connie's hands. "Can I stay for a bit longer?"

"No, Honey, you need to go back now. Mike is checking your vitals. The longer you are out, the harder it's going to be for you to come back healthy."

"I don't want to go, you know. I understand all that you are saying, but if there was a chance for me to repent right now and stay, that's what I'd like to do."

"Steve, remember what I said. You're work isn't done."

**SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF**

Mike was becoming distraught. He checked Steve's breathing and found that his chest was still.

Deputy Perkins walked over and put a hand on the older detective's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, sir." he attempted to take Steve's pulse but dropped his arm very loosely.

Suddenly, Steve quickly inhaled a lungful of air and then let it out as one large cough. He sat up and then fell to his side, leaning over and hacking hard.

"Steve!" Mike shouted. "Thank God! I thought you were a goner."

"Not this time," the young man choked out in a whisper. "Where…" Steve tried to roll over and look at the field. "Where is the bench? Where's Connie?"

"What?" Mike grabbed Steve's shoulders to hold him back on the ground.

"Where's…. No, I don't know. Mrs. Wade. Where is she?"

"Steve, she didn't make it. Now, let's focus on you. We need to get you to a hospital. You've got a bad leg injury and I suspect you've got a concussion judging by the way you are acting."

Steve ignored Mike and start to stand. He looked like a ragged mess as he was covered in mud and dirt with his shirt torn and untucked and his hair in disarray. "Steve, don't stand. You need to get to the hospital."

"No, I need to find Connie. She was just here…" he said as he stood. He was overcome by dizziness as his world turned gray and then black once again.


	17. Epilogue

The door opened quietly to the hospital room at Minot General. Mike peeked around to check how Steve was doing before he walked in.

"It's about time you got here," Steve growled. "They aren't going to release me until a 'responsible adult' signs me out. When did I become a five year old?"

"Good to see you, too, Buddy boy." Mike chuckled. It had been three days since Mike last saw his partner. "Didn't anyone tell you where I was?"

"No. I can't get the time of day from anyone."

"I went back to San Francisco." Mike responded confidently.

"And then you came back here? That wasn't very long to be home. Did something happen?" Steve's temper quickly cooled with worry.

"You forget why he came here. John Rollins went back with me to provide a statement and to finger Whitaker Nelson as the shooter. He and his attorney are working with the DA's office. I think we're going to get a deal worked out. Nelson doesn't want to go in for the long haul alone. He's going to pull down the guy that was with him as well as people from Sheffield Waste Management. It's going to be a good conviction with at least a couple more busts to come."

"Terrific!"

"And not only that, but the ballistics test came back positive. We've got him six ways to Sunday! But Rollins statement and ID was really what sealed the deal and made Nelson think hard about turning testimony to save his own rotten hide."

"What changed Rollins mind? If my memory is correct - which right now I'm not so sure - he wasn't too keen on going back."

Mike smiled at the young man. "It wasn't 'what changed his mind', it was '_who _changed his mind'. You, Buddy boy. The way you tried so hard to save his little girl and the old woman. You reminded him that sometimes a man has to do the right things, no matter what the consequence. You could have died out there - and you nearly did." Mike's voice became shaky at the end.

Mike quickly thought of the frantic drive to the hospital in the police squad car. He fast forwarded to the emergency room stay and how long it took to admit his partner in the midst of the post-tornado chaos. There was an operation on this leg and the countless hours waiting on x-ray for his head injury and broken shoulder.

On top of that, Steve was overcome by exhaustion from the earlier beating he had taken from Nelson and it all caught up. But Mike didn't have the luxury to wait for the young man's recovery, and instead headed back to his home base of San Francisco with John Rollins. He asked Deputy Perkins to keep an eye on his partner while he took care of the homicide case.

Mike looked a million miles away. Before Steve could say a word, the older man jumped in. "I'm fine. I just need some water." He found the hospital issued pitcher and Steve's cup. Filling it up, he gulped down a few swallows and wiped his mouth.

"Anyway," Mike continued, "he said that after you did what you could to save those two, he realized what he needed to do. He said that not only did he fear for his family, but he actually feared for himself. He said he could only imagine the fear that you went through during that tornado and then to do what you did in the name of saving other people… Well, let's just put it this way, it was a clarifying moment for him."

Steve was quiet. "I'm glad it worked out," he whispered. "I'm sorry that Mrs. Wade died, though. I tried to help her, but I couldn't. During the worst part of the storm, I think she told me to save the girl, so that's what I did."

"I don't want you to spend a moment feeling guilty over her death, do you understand?"

"Sure, Mike. I will try not to," Steve was suddenly very somber. He looked out the window.

"Steve, are you okay? Tell me about it." Mike asked. He was fearful of the answer because Steve's face was covered in emotion.

"It's nothing. I had a crazy dream, that's all."

"What was it about?"

"I was in the field with Mrs. Wade. Her son was a soldier from Korea and he was there. Connie were there, too. Connie looked beautiful - better than ever. I couldn't stay with them and so I left the field and headed back to the house. The dream ends there, but I have to say the images are so clear and the feeling I had of total peacefulness still overwhelms me."

"You were blabbering about something when we found you near the squad car. I remember you saying that 'she was with her boy'. I thought you had lost your marbles."

"Nah, I just wanted to go back to the field."

"How did you know Mrs. Wade had a son? I just learned today that had a son who was killed in Korea."

Steve shuddered and Mike realized that there was something more to the dream. They sat in silence.

Steve finally said. "She's okay, you know?"

"Who?"

"Nevermind."

"Connie?"

Steve wasn't sure if he was going to answer. "Yeah."

"I know. Just like Helen is. I've always believed that."

Steve hesitated again. "I do, too."

Mike walked over and put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Let's go home. Do you need help getting dressed?"

"I'm fine," he winced and then quickly tried to compose himself as he attempted to move off the bed.

"Yes, I'm aware of your standard pat answer for any question related to your well-being. I'll help you get dressed. I think the Rollins would like to see you before we head back, so we'll stop over there before we catch a plane out of here."

"Have they buried Mrs. Wade yet?"

"They did that this morning. I went with John to the funeral before heading over here." Mike responded.

Steve nodded his head. "Mike, maybe I can talk to Lenny when I get back. I know you've been after me to do that."

"I'm sure that will help. You know what else might be a good idea?"

"No, what?"

"Only if you are ready - but perhaps you could go back to Tahoe and recuperate there."

"Perhaps I could also join Maya on her Sunday morning visit," Steve cracked a crooked grin.

"I think that would make her day."

"It would be good for me too. I have a lot to be thankful for," Steve said. It was a sentiment that Mike swore was a long way from his partner's mind only three days ago.

"Sounds good to me. Let's go, Buddy boy."

-finis-


End file.
